


Only My Own

by sunbean72



Category: Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, I hope Sam Wilson give me mine, I think I need a hug too, POV Wanda Maximoff, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug, actually, this franchise is a dumpster fire of relationships tbh, we all need a hug after that movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-01-16 21:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12351129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunbean72/pseuds/sunbean72
Summary: Wanda did not stay with the ex-Avengers after Civil War; she went back to Sokovia. She's haunted by her past mistakes and does her best to help others but when she's suddenly stranded with Tony Stark far from earth, both will have to face the past.A/N November 2018 I have edited this a bit, so I'm republishing it, hope it's a bit better than before! I wrote it before IW so some notes are outdated.Note: I am Team Iron Man and may not get all of Team Cap's perspectives right (because I don't get them?? Like, at all??) So please if you're Team Cap and have feedback on a characterization please (nicely) let me know I would love it. I really disliked Wanda more than any of the rest of Team Cap, so this fic was my attempt at understanding how to like her? Like, what would it take? What motivations and actions would she need to have. I think her character deserves more than what we were given in the movies so hey, I'm giving it a shot. If any Wanda fans see something out of wack be sure and let me know.





	1. Chapter 1

Wanda Maximoff woke up suddenly, completely; wakefulness never came upon her gradually anymore, it hadn't for years and years. 

As usual, she felt as if she'd just missed something; had just felt the brush of air across her skin from her brother rushing by. A voice that had been speaking but had just fallen to silence. A light that had caught her eye but now there was only the darkness pressing around her, almost tangible, the shadows too thick to be insubstantial. She felt the cold burn of magic prickle through her body before she pressed it down, gently but firmly, as one would calm an over-exuberant pet. 

A pet that could cause massive destruction on a global scale, undo a man's mind, unravel reality, and manipulate the mind stone, one of the most powerful magical objects in existence. A pet, but part of her, a part of herself she hadn't brought entirely under control yet.

They were learning, the two of them. The darkness, the power, it was part of her but it was separate from her. Sometimes it almost felt like Peitro again, felt like family, felt like that. It was something deep and powerful and frightening, but she somehow loved it. She found it beautiful. Imagine.

She got up and put a kettle on to boil. 

It was odd to speak of it, since it was her and she was it. Yet disparate, so. She was beginning to trust it, a little bit, but only cautiously, only with care. She had felt so betrayed when it hadn't been enough to undo the damage she'd done in Sakovia with Ultron. It hadn't saved Pietro. Iron Man and Thor, they had to risk themselves, they could have died, to counter what she'd done. 

At times she despised that part of herself, sure it could only do harm, could only destroy. She had tried to use it for good, to help. But it was like fire; a little may warm, may cleanse, may save; but even a little too much and you are left with only ashes. 

The screeching kettle startled her. She hadn't realized she'd been daydreaming for so long, she didn't want to be late for work. She poured the boiling water over her tea and moved to the table to let it seep as she got dressed and ready for the day. A gray and cheerless light dawned; it would be overcast today, but she didn't mind. It was peaceful. The clouds were gray and sulking, yet came a pretty sunrise from it, though it only lasted a few minutes.

...

She hadn't blamed Tony Stark, this time. 

She took that as a sign of growth. 

At first, when they'd put the collar around her neck, she'd been so _enraged_ but what could she do, really? Sam had made the call that they would be left behind, that they would be the ones to be captured for the greater good, Clint had agreed, and Steve had left them all. There was a moment, in Vision's arms as he held her despite what she'd done, when finally asked herself if this was what _she_ wanted, asked herself what _she_ would have done. Not what Clint wanted and expected. Not what Vision or Tony thought was best and safest. Not what Steve Rogers believed to be the higher good. What. She. Wanted. Was she an Avenger? Clint had once said she was. But this didn't feel like that. They were fighting their once friends and benefactors. Did she want that?

To her profound surprise, she had realized she didn't know. She'd gone through all of that, she'd hurt people who had helped and protected her, she'd left the one place that had started to feel like home and she wasn't even sure if it was what she wanted.

She'd had some time to think about it. In the Raft prison.

Her fingers shook at the memory. The first several _shocks_ when her powers had activated, even accidentally, scattering her thoughts with pain and sapping her energy. The pain, yes; there was pain. It felt as if her insides were being exposed to a coldness that burned. The first few hours had been the worst as the magic raged against the restraint; she had screamed. Sam had gotten injured in the melee after, and Clint had been tazed into submission. It wasn't pretty. 

As time had passed, the pain had eased into a dull and persistent ache; nothing she couldn't deal with with a couple of Tylenol, except it was relentless. It had felt as if her life were slowly being drained out of her. She couldn't eat; she couldn't sleep. She couldn't speak, she didn't even try. She was weak; as if after a terrible flu. She felt as if she were bleeding out, as if she were dying, as if she were already dead.

But she was alive and she was left alone with her thoughts. Clint had tried to talk to her; she could hear him but she did not answer. Sam had demanded that she receive medical attention but she wasn't injured, she wasn't sick, she was something else. 

Though she could not move, and her power was severely weakened, she felt a strand of it. A whisper. A caress of her powers was left to her and though it pained her to do so, she caught it in her mind and held it.

The whisp did not grant her strength. It granted her perspective. 

Her power over mind, over matter, caught within her like a wild thing in a trap, showed her what the other Avengers had seen when she used that power against them. It had been years since Sokovia and Ultron, but with her magic, the memory of it had not lessened and now she was trapped with it with no recourse or help to be had; she must face it. Seeing what she'd made Tony see and feeling what he felt; the rage of the Hulk and the fear of Bruce Banner; she'd thrown up all over, and gotten no satisfaction at all from watching her captors clean it up; she was too ill, too sick, to sad and afraid and it was what Tony felt and her and the fear and the fear and the fear, and guilt and fear it was hers it was Tony's, she couldn't tell the difference.

What Steve saw only confused her, but she felt his loss, keenly in her heart as if it had been pierced. What Thor had seen was equally foreign to her, alien. But she felt his fear and then his courage rise to meet it. It was that courage that had allowed him to help Stark stop Ultron when it might mean both of their deaths. 

When she saw what Natasha saw, felt what she felt, red and black and pain and guilt, red, red. On a visceral level, Wanda felt the pain and fear of all that. It haunted her and she did her best to banish it whenever she remembered it now. Yet it had been Natasha that had done the most, perhaps, to try and preserve the team. All that suffering and she'd still tried, so hard. Perhaps because of her suffering she had tried the hardest to find a middle path to keep the Avengers together, yet she of all of them was alone now.

 _I didn't know,_ she'd often reminder herself. It became a mantra, the only way to keep guilt from driving her to desperate measures. She hadn't known what she was doing, how her power affected them. With Stark she'd only seen that his pain would cause his destruction and that had, in her single-mindedness, been the only thing that mattered. Before she showed them, she hadn't known what any of them would see and feel. _I didn't know._

She'd thought a lot about Vision. More than any of the others. The truth was, she'd maybe fallen in love with Steve a little bit, had a crush on him anyway. He was so kind, and he forgave her so easily. Protected her and comforted her and helped her. Encouraged her strength. Trusted her to do the right thing. Told her that her powers were not a curse but a gift, no matter that HYDRA had done it, no matter the scepter was the cause of great evil and destruction, that wasn't her and she wasn't that. 

Vision hadn't done those things; he wouldn't have known how to express himself if he felt them. Vision was different. Sometimes she thought he was the only one who saw her truly.

She thought of the people that had lived, because of her, and the people who had died, because of her. Who had ended while their families and friends moved on, like she had to with Pietro, who were buried if there was enough left of them and now people only could visit their grave, that was all that was left.

Then when Steve had rescued them, he'd torn the collar off, destroying it utterly. She had looked up at him, his blue eyes kind and angry, and he'd picked her up because she was too weak to move and she was so relieved and grateful she'd almost cried but she couldn't help but, couldn't help but... feel angry at Steve because he'd told her, once, that Tony had said he was trying to keep them from something worse. This was something, something worse, the Raft and the collar were and maybe she'd thought he'd protect her if she took her from a place where she was protected. But she'd known the risks. She couldn't blame Steve, either.

No. She didn't blame Steve, and she couldn't stay angry at him. You couldn't be mad at someone for who they were, fundamentally, as a person, not that she could be. He was too sincere. He just always had to do what he thought was right, regardless of the consequences, and she'd been on both sides of that. They both felt it, she thought. She didn't love him less, after that, but perhaps her liking had lessened.

Her power returned quicker than she could have hoped. Gently, like a pitcher being filled with water, without pain, without a rebound, it stretched within her and filled her up and strengthened her. But it couldn't erase what she'd felt, what she'd seen, all she'd thought. Steve and Clint babied her (though Steve was often preoccupied with James Barnes), the Wakandan doctors had cared for her as she recuperated, but there was nothing wrong. She didn't speak now because she didn't want to. Even when Clint threw something, swearing out Tony and blaming him somehow, she couldn't open her mouth even to correct him.

Because she didn't blame Tony Stark this time. 

He hadn't arrested them when Steve and Barnes left. Tony wasn't even there. He was with James Rhodes, whom she had trained with for months. She'd grown to like the sarcastic and firm colonel, appreciated his no-nonsense but still playful and funny teammate. She hadn't seen him fall. She heard the sound of it, felt Vision's tense as he held her in his arms. She heard the sirens and thought they were police but they never came for her. It was an ambulance. She never saw Tony after the battle at all.

Vision had helped her to her feet. Had gently straightened her jacket after they handcuffed her. Had asked her not to harm them and he and Tony would do what they could to help them and he'd truly believed it; he didn't know how to lie. He truly thought Tony Stark would still help her, if he could. She hadn't believed him. 

Steve had left her. He knew the consequences for her would be much more grave than for the rest of them, but he'd left her. Vision had stayed. She thought about that on the way to Wakanda after Steve had come back for her.

She'd decided that she didn't know what she wanted, she couldn't discover what that was unless she took some time apart. She told Clint first. They'd only been at the safe house a few hours when she approached him. Steve was gone; he had only told them he had to get Bucky Barnes someplace safe, where he could receive medical care and mental help. She didn't want to leave without saying goodbye to him, but she couldn't stay, either.

"What do you mean, you want to leave?" Clint had asked, his brow furrowing in concern and confusion.

"I wish to leave here," she said clearly. "I want to go to Transia."

"Where is that?"

"It's near Sokovia. I grew up there before my family moved to Sokovia when I was six."

"What's there for you, Wanda? Here we have everything, we have each other. What is it? Something someone said?"

"Of course not!" None of her teammates seemed to bear her any ill-will. 

"Listen, I know it's hard right now. I know it is. But Wanda... are you really sure you want to leave? Leave us? After all we've been through _together?_ " Clint searched her face. He seemed so sad. They had all lost so much. But she thought she might go crazy here. 

"Only for a while. And I will always come if you need me. You know this." 

"Ah, Wanda," he sighed sadly. "I never thought I'd lose you too." She didn't contradict him. He wasn't losing her, but the truth was their relationship was changing, evolving, and she couldn't say what it would look like after. The man was like a father to her, sometimes like an older brother. He pulled her close and she did not pull away for a long time, knowing it may be the last embrace she received for some time. She held him tightly. Then she let go.

Scott and Clint helped her get her new identity together that very day. There was cash in the safehouse, enough for anything they might need. By the next day, Wanda had left behind everything she'd ever known.


	2. Chapter 2

_Six months later_

Wanda repeated the word again to the dark-haired, blue-eyed little girl sitting beside her. She spoke as clearly as she could so Luiza could more easily mimic what she was saying, but the small girl still mispronounced the word so Wanda raised her voice to emphasize the correct syllable and pronunciation. To her surprise, Luiza clapped her hands to her ears and ducked down. Wanda looked up to Luiza's mother, surprised.

"Too loud," Momma said sagely, turning back to the laundry she was folding. "She's afraid of the loud sounds. Ever since the city fell." Wanda went very still at the mention of the tragedy. She'd altered her appearance; she'd cut her hair, done her makeup differently, dressed differently. No one yet had recognized her, despite the fact that Scarlet Witch was the most famous Avenger here. She relaxed when the woman gave no indication of continuing the thread of conversation. 

"It's okay, little one. I will be quiet as a mouse!" Wanda said, wrinkling her nose and making a silly face to get the Luiza to lower her hands and smile. She was rewarded with a small giggle.

Luiza's mother smiled as well, thankful to the young woman giving her daughter English lessons. "She is usually better, but today is hard. Jumping at every sound. Nightmares last night, for some reason it's been happening more lately. Even though she was six when it happened and it's been two years now, some days are like this."

"We all have good and bad days," Wanda said kindly, putting her hand on Luiza's and smiling. Luiza looked sad and looked down at the book in front of her. With her other hand, Wanda made a fluid, graceful gesture and had either of them been watching, they would have seen a flickering red mist leave her fingertips and brush across the little girl's forehead and would have seen her eyes glow briefly red.

Luiza looks around, sensing something, but then returned her gaze to her book, her little brow furrowing in concentration. She did not take the memories away, nor the fear. She simply calmed it, made it more distant as with time. Hopefully, the fear of sound and nightmares would go away, the memories now no more distressing that a half-forgotten bad dream. "February!"

Wanda grinned. "Well done, Luzia! You are such a hard worker. You did well today, thank you." Luiza beamed and Wanda glanced at then frowned at her watch. She was nearly late, it was fifteen minutes until three.

"Same time tomorrow?" She asked, picking up her bag, glancing again at her watch. Though the money she earned at the diner was not very much, rent was coming due. It also was not a large sum, but she needed every penny to make ends meet. 

" _Ei,_ " Luiza said. "No. We are going to visit my grandfather!"

"Then you must promise to tell him hello in English," Wanda told her, poking her side to tickle her. Luzia squirmed away with a grin and nodded her agreement. 

"Thank you. You are a miracle worker." Luiza's mother smiled at her. "She will have so much more access to schooling if she knows Eglish. I only wish we could give you something for all you've done for us."

"That's not necessary," Wanda reminded her. "I will see you next week then."

Outside the sky still threatened to storm. She walked quickly, her head down against the blowing wind, but paused at a street corner. Across the intersection, she could see the park they had been clearing for weeks was finally free of debris. Already, new playground equipment and landscaping was being put in place. The workers were wearing the red shirts that identified them as volunteers of the Maria Stark Foundation. When a large portion of the Sokovian city had fallen from the sky two years ago, the entire world had rallied behind the small, war-torn country. Relief had flooded in, at first, but after a few months, it felt as if the world had forgotten them. Yet always the red shirts had stayed, working diligently. It was only in the past few months that the government had allowed that Stark Industries could send its drones to help complete the work. They had been understandably reluctant before then to allow anything that resembled a robot into the city. Since they had begun allowing it, the cleanup and restoration had progressed much faster, but it certainly made people anxious. She could feel it, she could almost taste it. It tasted like metal; sharp, painful. They were afraid of what could most help them. Thunder rumbled overhead, recalling her thoughts, and she glanced up at the sky as the thunder reverberated, an ache in her chest. The wind lifted her hair, brushing it across her face, and she hurried on.

She arrived at the diner on a gust of wind, calling out her apologies to Mrs. Ivanov who fussed and fretted at her, shuffling over to take her jacket and bag. Wanda gave her a kiss on the cheek and lifted a hand in greeting to the young teenager behind the counter. He immediately flushed and dropped the handful of coins he held all over the counter and floor. She hid her grin as she put her apron on. For the next six hours, she waited the tables, bussed them, even taking a moment to help prepare the food and drinks if needed. She served the humble people of Sokovia, filling their bellies with good food, serving hot drinks to warm their tired bodies. She listened to their stories of how the day went, filled their cups, laughed at their jokes. And she listened for their pain. Their distress, their fear, their anxiety. Anyone watching closely (but no one was) would have seen brief flashes of red, haunting and beautiful, graceful like ink in water. Quieting their fear. Soothing their anxiety. Finding the hurt caused by all that Ultron had done and ease it.

Using her powers that way was difficult, to say the least-- like using lightning to power a nightlight. She was powerful, much more powerful than this. It felt somewhat like holding a cup of water at arm's length in the palm of her hand. The relief of movement, of exercising strength would have been a relief but it would spill the cup. Her powers were easily bent toward destruction, toward bursts of energy but she harnessed it, tamed it, restrained it. She used it to help, to heal.

But better than doing that, she liked to be among them. She liked to share in their burdens and their sorrows, as well as their small joys and victories. She liked to see them as they were, with no lense from the lies Hydra had fed her to incite the riots, and without the heavy mantle of Avenger on her shoulders. Always when she fought as an Avenger, she must think of the larger picture, the bigger plans, the most good for the most people. Here she did not have to do that. The good of the person in front of her was all that mattered. She did not have to save the world, only make sure that this one person was better for encountering her. It was not her powers, always, just her understanding that helped them feel better. She liked that.

The little diner had been on the brink of closing down from lack of patrons. But in the months that she'd worked there, it had gained a reputation and a loyal following. People felt better after eating there. They felt stronger. They were happier. The weight of the world didn't seem on their shoulders. They felt ready to face the insurmountable tasks that came with living in Sokovia. They left feeling lighter, kinder. It was certainly the way she used her powers, yes. But also it was her. Just her.

It did drain her, though.

After her shift, her entire body ached from weariness, and she stumbled toward the bus stop on weary feet. Rain began, finally, pelting the bus window. _The wipers on the bus go swish swish swish,_ she thought tiredly. It was the hard part of the day. The city receded from view as the bus headed toward Transia where her apartment was. The sky was dark and red with a sunset, pretty, but it would not last. It seemed sometimes that the good things never lasted and she was left with the cold and the dark. Heaviness settled in her chest and she wondered, as she did every night, if she was doing the right thing. She could reach out to the ex-Avengers and rejoin them. At least then she wouldn't have to decide anything, she could let others take the burden of deciding what was best and right to do with their time and simply help them. And she did miss the team, very much. Being able to depend on them, and having them depend on her. She mattered, she had saved them before, these people who did so much good. These people who saved the world and she saved them. She did miss that. She missed the controlled chaos of unleashing her powers in spectacular fashion, of the moment even _they,_ the other Avengers who had seen so many marvelous things, _they_ would stop and watch for a moment. She missed having someone to eat with, have a conversation with. She missed what she had with them that had felt like Pietro wasn't completely gone, the feeling that felt like family. 

But she would not leave. She was where she belonged.

Back in her small apartment, it was cool and dark. The rain made its small sound against the window, and thunder grumbled distantly.

It was the difficult time of the day. 

She finally allowed that she would do what she had been craving to do. It was an indulgence when she was so carefully nurtured her new independence. But already she felt the relief that would come. She took a quick shower, washing away the smell of the diner for the smell of her shampoo-- a cinnamon smell, sharp and comforting. She put on her her comfiest pajamas and crawled into bed with a hot cup of tea in her hands. She closed her eyes. She _reached._

It was magnetic; it was the moon to the tides, it was gravity. The mind stone that gave Vision his powers and perhaps his life, it had given her her powers. There was a connection there that drew her to him. She could sometimes telepathically connect with him, if she had the strength to maintain the contact.

He did not know she was there at first; he was concentrating on an important document and listening to a woman from the UN council. She could see through his eyes, Tony Stark, James Rhodes, other people she did not recognize. 

It was like coming into a warm room after being outside in the biting cold. Vision's mind was a lovely place. He appreciated small beauties. He hated violence and discord. He studied small flowers. When Tony had offered to buy him any piece of art for his room as a housewarming gift, he had chosen The Mulberry Tree by Van Gogh and often he would gaze at it. He watched kittens and bugs on their little paths with the same care and attention that he gave to matters of saving the world. Vision thought the best of others, gave them the benefit of the doubt. He forgave them for their mistakes, trusting they had a reason for the choices they made. As he had told Ultron, he found grace in other's failings. He allowed that others might be right when he disagreed with them. He was generous with his praise but sincere, he was compassionate. He had nothing that could be called a temper, but a strong curiosity about everything. He craved experiences, he valued the unique. He was developing his sense of humor. Wanda felt that if anyone could see into his mind even for a moment, they would come to love him as she did. Even the worst person would be better by exposure to his goodness, his purity. 

He kept a place in his mind open for her. A safe place, where she was welcome, encouraged, thought well of. In his mind, she was wonderful. She was beautiful and kind and funny and intelligent. She was remarkable, powerful, strong. She liked what she was in his mind, and sometimes came here during the difficult times to recoup, to recover. Here was always safe. Here was always good. He admired her without any possessiveness, and she felt safe accepting his respect and regards. With Clint and Steve, at times she felt that she would let them down. That she would disappoint the expectations that came from developing a close relationship. It wasn't negative, exactly, but with Vision she didn't have to worry about it. He had told her once that he wanted others to see her the way he did. She would settle for seeing herself that way.

He still hadn't noticed her and she allowed herself a small grin. She waited until he picked up his coffee and took a drink. He did not need to eat or drink, but enjoyed the sensations that food and drink brought; taste and smell and touch, even sounds. The coffee was sweet and creamy. As he went to place the cup back on the table, she activated the mind stone and made his hand suddenly a twenty pounds heavier. Unprepared for it, his cup slammed the last few inches to the table, sloshing the sweet coffee all over the table. Tony looked over and raised an amused eyebrow at Vision before turning his attention back to what the woman was saying. Inside his mind, Wanda could feel what he felt, a happy surprised, an eager welcome, a gentle amusement at her prank. 

_Wanda, it is good to hear from you. It's been several days, I was a little worried about you._

_I'm fine, Vis, I've been busy._

_It is as I thought. Are you still volunteering at the hospital? How is Luiza's English lessons?_

_Luiza is doing well. She's like a little sponge! Not at the hospital anymore._ She allowed him to see her memory of using her power to subdue an irate and combative patient who had threatened a security guard and himself with a knife. She had to act quickly and couldn't be as careful, and the security guard had watched her suspiciously after seeing the flash of red that accompanied the use of her gift.

_I see. And you are still adverse to using your powers to protect yourself? You could have altered his memories._

_Yes, I'm still adverse. I won't manipulate another's mind unless it is directly for their benefit. He was just doing his job. He won't think much about it now he hasn't seen me for a while._

_Yet I am sure that those at the hospital will miss your influence, whether they are aware of it or not._

_Perhaps,_ she agreed. _But they will do all right without me. There are other places I can be of use. Since Stark rebuilt the hospital to be state of the art, the care there has been much better than it was when I was a child. There was much less need for me to intervene._

_That's good to hear. I sometimes wish Tony could see the benefits of his foundations. He worries about the Sokovians. Sometimes it seems that he only hears about things when they become a problem._ Wanda smiled at this admission from the gentle android. He was completely without guile. He always said what he thought, was completely honest with his feelings. He made a terrible ambassador and Tony had learned early that it was not a good idea to send him to represent the Avengers at council meetings. It simply didn't occur to him to be more politic when voicing his opinion. The fact that Wanda and the mercurial billionaire genius rarely saw eye to eye did not make him hesitate to express fondness for Tony Stark. She doubted Tony would appreciate Vision's frank admission of what could be seen as a weakness or vulnerability, and she had no doubt he did the same thing whenever she came up in their discussions. It probably drove Tony a little bit crazy. 

Though Vision was more than capable of holding a telepathic conversation with her, read a long document, and pay attention to what the woman giving the debriefing was saying, she felt his attention pulled by what the woman had just said. _Should I leave? I can come back when you're done._

He understood that she was tacitly asking if the meeting was classified. In truth, she could not care less about the information in the meetings, and Vision trusted her completely. But it made him uncomfortable that allowing her access to the information could be perceived as a betrayal by those who trusted him to keep the information secret and safe. He did his best to honor the trust that others placed in him, including not ever asking Wanda information that could lead to discovering where she lived so that he would never have to lie to protect her. He had even told Tony that he had ways of contacting and communicating with her, and Tony had only given him a hard, searching look and then shrugged it off. "So long as it doesn't distract you," he had said acerbically. "I'm not your mother. I personally haven't had the best experience having her in my head but hey, knock yourself out." He had other things to worry about, and Wanda had gotten the impression that the genius had stopped caring about what happened to his once teammates. _So much for family,_ she'd thought bitterly when she'd seen the memory in Vision's mind. 

_No need, I believe we are just about finished,_ Vision replied, and sure enough, she could see the woman asking if anyone had any questions as people started to gather their belongings to leave. 

Without warning, Wanda suddenly felt something very _wrong._ Her powers reared up within her like a surge of bright red sunlight in pitch blackness, obliterating the darkness. It filled her so quickly and powerfully that she gasped and for a moment she didn't know what was happening. 

Her own powers had been triggered by Vision activating the mind stone as a _tear_ appeared in the air in the conference room. The tear looked like light blue flames, with darkness at its heart. The blue light undulated and twisted, twirling. It was as beautiful as it was frightening. It grew, the tear expanding into a dark circle. It looked like a portal, it looked like something the tesseract would create but that was impossible; the Asgardians had it, they used it to rebuild the bifrost. Odin had promised to secure it, it was far, far out of reach for anyone to use. But it looked like it, it felt like it.

The room erupted into chaos. It was as if a hurricane exploded into the room, whipping paper and people and furniture around with powerful winds. The winds pushed everything away from the opening of the portal, except for Tony Stark. The genius threw up his hands to protect his head and face, calling for a suit. But if FRIDAY could hear him, she could not respond. The electronics in the room were going haywire, flickering on and off, some shorting out in a spray of sparks. The tesseract was an energy source; it often affected equipment that way. Vision was partially machine. He put a hand to his chest, using the mind stone to stabilize his body. He looked up and saw that Tony was being sucked toward the portal's gaping darkness, as if an invisible hand had grasped him. He clutched at furniture but could not hold it; James Rhodes lunged from his wheelchair towards Tony, fumbling for his hand across the table, their fingers brushing before Tony was too far away. The force pulling Tony in was dangerous, hostile; lines of blood streaked across his bare arms as he resisted, across his cheek.

There was a terrible rushing sound, making it difficult to make out what people were shouting, screaming. Vision increased his density so that the buffeting wind would not affect him and moved quickly to grasp Tony, to pull him out of the strange rift, but he was already inside and it was already closing. Vision grasped the edges and _held._ It was like grasping and holding a shard of broken glass. It _cut_ across his fingers, drawing blood, but he held it, did not let it close. Tony was unmoving within, he could only see the top of his head, and he could see that it was calm and dark and cavelike in appearance within the rift. He braced himself.

 _Wanda,_ Vision said calmly, as if they were discussing the recently unsettled weather. _If you are willing, I require your assistance. I cannot guarantee your safety._

_What can I do? I'm thousands of miles away!_

_This... power that is creating this portal. With the mind stone active, I believe I can tap into its ability to transport objects and people._ Within his mind, she could see, she could kind of feel what he meant. Yes, it was like grasping a passing car with one hand, it was so fast, so turbulent. _That won't matter,_ he said in response to her thought. _I can do it. Will you come and use your telekinetic powers to pull Tony out of there? I cannot allow whatever force this is to take him._

She had already stood up, spilling her tea all over her bed. Heedless, she waited, fearful but anxious to help. Because it was him. Vision. She would do whatever he asked of her. _I am ready._

It wasn't a painful sensation, she decided when she thought back on it later. But it was uncomfortable. She was suddenly a thought, a splash of sunlight, insubstantial. It was very liberating, in one moment, but abjectly terrifying, as if her existence was a hair's breadth from being snuffed out, but then she was herself, whole and firm and strong and glowing red through her entire body, every strand of hair, her eyes glowing as well. 

She though off-handedly that she might make an impressive sight, if she weren't in her pajamas. But in the same instant, she knew that didn't matter; she'd never been this strong, never this powerful before. She felt it. She could take the world apart.

Instead she sent her power toward the darkness inside the portal, the rift, to draw out the unconscious Avenger. Yet as soon as her power tried to pass into it, she felt a _pull_ in the middle of her body, irresistible, and--

\--and stronger than she was. If she tried to extricate Tony, she would be pulled in herself.

In an instant, she thought of all the people who she was helping in Sokovia, who depended on her. Mrs. Ivanov. She thought of the peaceful life she had, the independence. Everything she'd built. 

She could blame Vision, and do this for him. But she had already promised herself not to make other people the reason she did things anymore, never again. It had to be what she wanted, what she would do independently. It was important to her. All this flashed through her mind and she acted.

_I will protect him and keep him safe until you can find us._

_NO!_ Vision was not going to allow her to sacrifice herself, but it was not up to him. He let go of the portal's edges to try and let it close before she got there. _\--Not both of you, I can't lose you both--_

 _You won't._ She used her own powers to keep it open, and it was difficult; she felt sweat stand out on her forehead. Then she tugged on Tony, feeling the corresponding pull again, and just before the portal closed she pulled with all her strength, yanking herself into the darkness so fast for a moment it felt like Pietro, then she was on the other side and she looked back as it was closing and saw Vision, saw despair and fear and sorrow, things he did not understand well, and for the last time she saw herself through his eyes as the portal closed between them, his eyes memorizing her face--

_I will find you--_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok HONESTLY this chapter accidentally got deleted TWICE I'm so bummed about it but that's why it took so long. I would appreciate your feedback before the next chapter if you are liking it or not because now we get her and Tony having some face time. Yike.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh. Oh, gosh, this is sad. I hurt my own feelings *cries forever. Poor Wanda! I've always been so put off by her actions I haven't contemplated her trauma. WELL NOW I HAVE
> 
> If anyone has any sources or art on positive interactions between Tony and Wanda, please let me know! I'm short on inspiration to draw from. Ah well, be the change you want to see in fanfiction lol

Fear was not in her nature.

Rage against her helplessness, her inability to act, a powerful sense of justice against wrongs against her, that, _that,_ was in her nature. Revenge. Justice. These things could be her middle name. 

She never pretended to anyone to be an angel. She never asked anyone to overlook her character flaws. She never asked anything of anyone, actually, and perhaps that's what made it difficult for her to express gratitude when people gave her things. Things like a second chance. The benefit of the doubt. When they overlooked her failures in light of her potential.

HYDRA was nothing to her. She saw them as a means to an end. She saw just about everyone and everything as a means to an end, actually. She needed power, she needed a weapon against her much stronger enemy and they had promised it to her. 

She'd had her doubts. She hadn't exactly liked or trusted Strucker or List, and Hydra were mass murderers. She had thought that by volunteering for their experiment, she would be best able to stop them from hurting innocent people by refusing to assist them (the safest hands, even then, were her own). When she expressed her reservations, Pietro had convinced her that it was their only possible way of being able to do the right thing in the end. _Someone_ had to stop the wars, the destruction the unending _death_ rained down upon the Sokovians. The two of them together would protect Sokovia, would stop Tony Stark to stop the endless flow of weapons. Stark Industries was not the only weapons providers, but he was by far the most high profile and killing him would show the other companies that there were consequences to their greed. It all started and ended with the weapons. Weapons were the means the warmongers used to threaten and kill any who opposed them as they reaped the benefits of destruction.

When guilt or worry had plagued her for specifically targeting Tony Stark, she pushed it aside. How could she be wrong? She was only stopping the bloodshed and destruction. That was always right. The man the media had labeled a hero for stopping the alien invasion was not what he presented himself to the world. The fact that he'd stopped manufacturing weapons did not change that he had armed and abetted warlords. His pleas that he didn't know what his own company had been doing made him more culpable, not less, and was almost certainly a lie in any case.

No. When she hesitated, it was never because of fear.

She had lived for two days, buried in rubble, in fear. One moment, eating a cookie with milk at the table with her mother brushing her hair and her father playing checkers with Pietro as he finished his dinner, the next their parents were gone. Pietro had grabbed her and rolled them under the bed and she called and called for their parents to come to her, to help her, to save her and make her safe. The rubble from the collapsed building had injured her, she screamed in pain but they did not come. Pietro thought they could get out, but she wouldn't move and he wouldn't leave her and they both stared at the bomb and called for their parents but they did not answer. The darkness and cold came with nightfall, and they could hear people trying to get to them but no one came, the bomb scared them away. In that darkness, the fear was so great she thought she might die of it, expecting every moment for an explosion, any moment she might die, she might live and her brother might die. She wished it would go off so she could just stop being afraid. She waited for someone to come, but no one did. Not for another day and another night, and at some point in those two days, Wanda Maximoff had stopped calling for her parents, understanding now that they would never come. She'd stopped crying, understanding that her tears would do no good and that they brought her no relief. She was too old for dolls, at ten years old, but Pietro had found one in the rubble around them and she'd held it for a long time, clutching it. She set it aside; it had stopped comforting her. She stared at the bomb, unsleeping. She stopped being afraid of it.

Perhaps a part of her died that day. Is still buried in the rubble.

When they finally pulled her and Pietro out of the rubble and she'd looked at them passively, was not comforted by their help, was angry at them for not being her parents. For surviving when her parent's hadn't. She had seen that her lack of fear, her anger, it had made _them_ afraid. She heard one of the old women say she had a dark spirit; she was a witch. It made her feel strong.

She hadn't been afraid since then, except by proxy when she was in the Raft and had experienced _other's_ fear, still not her own. She had felt something close to fear, _horror_ when she'd discovered Ultron's true intentions, but still, she hadn't been afraid. She didn't even know if she could. She wasn't sure she could remember what it was like to feel her own fear, wasn't sure if she'd recognize it. 

Ever since that day when she was ten and her parents died, she'd been fascinated with fear, with other people's fear since she could no longer feel it herself. Perhaps the mind stone, the scepter, saw that in her. There was no way to know, exactly, but it had given her an... _ability._ She could show others what they feared most. She could make them afraid.

The first time she used her powers to make someone afraid, she hadn't liked it. She felt sick; she felt repulsed. Her hands shook. This was different from the power and strength she'd felt from standing up to people, frightening them with her own fearlessness. She'd watched the man on the floor, his body reacting to a fear he could not govern, could not control, awake and yet living a nightmare. Strucker had convinced her that she was doing nothing wrong, saying they made victims of themselves. She merely showed it to them, they had to control their reaction.

It got easier, with time. Inflicting fear on others. It was not painful, she reasoned. It didn't actually hurt them, she thought. Fear was a weapon. A powerful weapon that she could use to save Sokovia and get revenge on the people who had harmed them and herself.

Outside the HYDRA test subjects, Tony Stark was the first person that she used her powers to inflict fear. The world had opened to her; her enemy, the man she blamed for all her troubles was before her, helpless. She could have made him put a gun to his head and pull the trigger. She could make him turn on his friends, she could make him watch the death of those he cared most about. 

To this day, she didn't know what made her decide to let him take the scepter. She saw his fear, saw he was afraid of not protecting the world and saving his friends, and she hesitated. For the first time, she questioned herself. What if the means to the end she had in mind made her into the thing she despised? She saw that his fear would make him self-destruct. That pleased her. Nothing would be more deliciously ironic than letting Tony Stark destroy himself and everything he worked for. And there was a clear benefit. She could sit back and watch. Perhaps the truth was there was a small part of her that wanted to set a fire and see what would happen.

...

She was a different person now. The things that once drove her to act, that had inspired her to allow HYDRA to experiment on her and give her power, she no longer felt those things. It was strange to think that the powers she obtained that would enable her to have whatever she wanted, transformed her into someone who wouldn't want those things anymore. Perhaps she only wanted them when she couldn't have them. Perhaps it just gave her perspective. Perhaps she just didn't want the responsibility.

She didn't blame Tony Stark. 

And she didn't want to harm him anymore. 

After Steve rescued her from the Raft, if Tony crossed her mind, it brought a kind of tiredness, of guilt, of loss. Could it be called grief? Yes, probably, because it was all mixed it with something she couldn't understand about Vision. She grieved. She mourned. Tony was one of the people she'd harmed the most, along with Bruce, and he helped her. He let her live on the Compound and all the facilities there belonged to him and he made sure that it was equipped to help her train and use her powers safely. He'd done that. They never had a chance to talk about anything, after Ultron.

They only spoke once. At Pietro's funeral.

She'd been shaken, the fearless witch. Part of her died with Pietro; she would never be the same. She was not as strong, now. Her fearlessness took a new perspective, having lost the one things she had never contemplated losing. Especially since their powers were given, she had felt that they were invincible. The hubris of youth and power. Her own ego at trying to harm Tony Stark had led to the creation of a monster, one who had tried to destroy what she wanted to protect. There would be no Ultron if it weren't for her, that was a fact she had to live with. Ultron had killed her brother, her best friend. 

It had been Steve that gently carried his body to the helicarrier. It was Clint that bore the wounds from the bullets that Pietro had slowed with his own body, his own blood. Clint had stayed by her side the entire time because she had no one else. Had helped her arrange things. She remembered the feel of his arm across her shoulder at the graveside. It was the only thing she could feel besides pain. 

The services were over. They had buried him in Sokovia, next to her parents. They weren't the only mourners; despite their efficiency and sacrifice to evacuate the city, 117 people had died. All those deaths, so many Sokovians, who wouldn't have died if she hadn't tried to protect them.

Tony found her in a quiet moment when she was alone. The fearless witch with unimaginable power was reduced in his eyes to a young woman, mourning and hurting as they all were. He hadn't approached her, wasn't sure if she'd allow it. Part of him wondered if she'd kill him, after all. Her trust in Ultron had been misplaced, but up until he showed his true colors this woman had been completely down with working with him and destroying the Avengers, most of whom had done nothing to her. It was their connection to him, Tony Stark, that had warranted her wrath. She had found a way to work with them, but he had no idea where he stood in her mind. Finally, she had noticed him out of the corner of her eye and turned to him-- an invitation. He approached warily. 

Perhaps it was because he came to her when the others, Clint, Steve, even Vision, were not around; there was no one to protect him from her. It might have been that her own heart, in a broken and fragile state, was only susceptible right then and not again. But Tony Stark, her once hated enemy, approaching her with nothing in his hands, no sunglasses, just the dark suit he'd worn to the graveside, it made her feel something she hadn't.

Not in years.

She felt afraid.

She was afraid of his vulnerability. She was afraid she'd badly misjudged him, the man he used to be and that all of the death and anger and hatred and thirst for revenge was for nothing. She was afraid her brother's death, was for nothing. She was afraid of his kindness, his compassion. She was afraid of his innate goodness. She was afraid he would forgive her. The handsome genius billionaire approaching her filled her with a terrible dread and fear. She was afraid of herself. 

He'd looked her straight in the eye. "Miss Maximoff, I'm sorry for your loss," he said, and his gentleness broke her and she hadn't cried yet, she couldn't even though she wanted to, but then it was like a dam had broken in her heart and she couldn't control her tears.

She had been strong for so long. She had Pietro to help her, to lean on, and now she didn't. She was alone and her hatred was gone. She tried to summon it, hatred was better than pain and fear, but it had nowhere to go. There was nothing to hate. 

Her eyes were blind with tears, with terrible sobbing, for what he'd said, all she'd lost, all these years. He put a hand on her shoulder, warm and callused and strong. He guided her to Clint, who had wrapped her in his arms, his own tears falling at her grief. "All right," Clint said. "All right."

That was the only words spoken between them. He and Bruce had flown back to New York separately from the other Avengers, and he had only come to Avengers compound briefly to say goodbye to Thor and make sure Steve was settled in to take over a bigger portion of the responsibilities of the Avengers since Tony was "retiring." She'd gotten into an easy and pleasant routine on the compound; training with Steve and Natasha and the other new recruits, exploring her interests outside of Sokovia and war and riots and being experimented on. 

The weight of all of it, their history, seemed to settle across her shoulders as she fumbled in the darkness to find him. She felt his heavy, warm body, turned him over, her hands coming away wet with his blood. He was limp and unmoving under her touch, completely unconscious and bleeding from several wounds. "Tony," she said, shaking him gently. He still did not move or stir and she looked around, trying to see where they were, what kind of threat they might still be under. There was no one that she could tell; it was just dark. She summoned her powers for the light that it cast and everything was black and red. She concentrated, forming a bright bulb of white light that gave off pinkish red whisps as she tried to figure out what to do next.


	4. Chapter 4

Wanda took off her robe, her body shivering, though not with cold. It left her arms bare and she was only wearing a t-shirt underneath, but it was not cold here. It wasn't warm, either. It was dark and her light revealed no other presence. They were in a dark cave-like room with dirt and sharp rocks on the ground. She could hear sounds-- chaotic, unorganized; it sounded like a storm of wind and thunder or something like it but instead of deep and reverberating it was harsh and discordant, she didn't hear rain. 

By the light she created, she lifted Tony's head to rest on her robe. Her hand came away bloody-- he'd hit his head and was bleeding from a wound on the back of his head. A shiver went through her; she didn't know what to do for this. She didn't know how to help. She didn't know where they were or how much danger they were in. The unknown pressed around her like a clenching fist. She shook her head, straightening. She would face this. 

Using her powers she cut a piece of cloth off her robe and pressed it to the bleeding wound. All of the Avengers had been taught basic first aid and CPR from Natasha, that seemed like another lifetime ago. But she remembered, she could help. She looked him over for other wounds, and there were superficial cuts across his forearms where his rolled up sleeves had not protected him and small cuts on his face, already done bleeding. She kept looking around, afraid that someone was there, that the sounds were not of a storm but of someone who would attack them. But no one came. Nothing happened. That in itself was disturbing. What was all this? She looked down at the unconscious billionaire. She suddenly became aware that she was taking a liberty probably very few people ever had, seeing him asleep. It was strange to see him this way; to see him a way he never even saw himself. He looked younger, somehow, asleep; perhaps it was because awake his face held a tension that was eased now. He'd never seemed tense to her in any of their interactions; he was always joking and seemingly relaxed, but she thought he was just good at hiding it or she wasn't good at noticing it.

Holding the cloth to the bleeding wound, Wanda noticed her hands were shaking. She clenched them into fists, summoning the comforting burning of her powers. She'd been in bed, with tea, only a few minutes ago. She had left the ex-Avengers for a quieter life, and now she was in a foreign environment facing an unknown enemy cradling the head of Tony Stark, her erstwhile foe, and sometimes ally. She didn't know exactly which category he considered her at the moment. She tried to understand what she considered him, but whatever he was she had decided to help and save him and she would. 

Wasn't it good to let someone with a concussion wake up? Movies were always trying to keep people conscious, right? She put her hand on his warm shoulder and shook him gently, but he wasn't asleep, he wasn't _there_. Wanda hesitated. She could only imagine how Tony might feel about her entering his mind again, even to save him. But if there was a chance it could save him permanent harm or damage, he would approve, wouldn't he? "It would be best if you just woke up on your own now," she said aloud to him. For the first time in their relationship, he did not give her a snappy or sarcastic response.

She stood up and investigated their surroundings; she had to make sure they were safe. She left a small light by Tony in case he woke up. There was only one way to move through the cave; they were at its end. She moved through, hearing the slashing sounds of the wind and the static rumbles of thunder as she neared the cave entrance. It only took her a few minutes to get to the mouth of the cave; it was not large. She looked out across a strange and alien world; they were not on earth. A giant planet filled the twilight sky; it was either dawn or dusk but there was no light. Everything was the eerie blue of dying and beginning days. An electrical storm crackled across the dark, unlit sky, offering her only glimpses of a world so foreign it was unnerving. Cautiously and with great care, she sealed off the cave entrance with an energy shield. She could not make it particularly strong without continuously maintaining it, but this she could keep without much effort and it would alert her if anything tried to enter the cave. She went back to Tony, who had not moved then settled next to him.

She reached for Vision. She knew he would be searching for her too. Usually, it only took moments, even when they were thousands of miles apart. She felt nothing; it was a lonely feeling, one that might have frightened her, but her heart was pounding with adrenaline and the only thing she felt was determined. She pressed harder, feeling the burn of her powers rise through her skin. She pressed, she pressed as hard as she could, but she could not feel him. Soon she began to feel drained and quickly extinguished her powers. Though she'd never found their limit, never truly let herself go and drain herself of energy, there were many days when she felt tired and empty and once she'd been terribly ill the next day after overtaxing herself. Not knowing the challenges she'd face here, she knew she must be careful. But she longed to keep looking. She didn't want to face this alone. It was the guilt. She knew she had harmed Tony in the past and she didn't want to do anything more to upset him. She could only hope he would understand she had little choice. She needed him to wake up.

She let the scarlet mist settle over Tony's forehead like a soft blanket. To her it was the most beautiful thing in the world, as lovely as a sunset, as moving as the northern lights. It was warming at times; other times, cool and calming. It gave her strength and protection. It connected her in a profound way to the world, to life and the universe. It was the best part of her, the part that did good and beautiful things. After all she'd been through, giving this part of herself to Tony, even if he wasn't aware of it, left her feeling vulnerable and hesitant.

All in his mind was darkness. The pure cold darkness that felt as if she were entombed alive surrounded by vastness that she could neither see nor comprehend, with no tools to pierce it. The eerie and suffocating feeling that comes from being able to sense nothing electrified her as with fear but she was not afraid. She had seen worse. She had been connected with Pietro when he died, felt it when his bright life force ceased, and it had hurt so much she felt the pain of it still. This was small to that; this was unconsciousness, deeper than sleep, but she could feel the throb of life like the movement of a pulse against her mind. It was dark here but there was life. It was familiar and sad, it was Tony. 

Perhaps he knew her, too. Perhaps her presence here was also familiar, if unwelcome, because as his consciousness stirred to wakefulness under her gentle nudge, a memory brushed against her mind and without thinking, she allowed herself to glimpse it. She sensed already it caused him pain and anger, grief and then _betrayal,_ it took her a moment to understand the emotion for what it was and then she saw, all in a moment, all at once--

_A man with a genial, indulgent smile with an edge like a predator as it tore into a prey's throat, as it tore into a young and defenseless animal. No remorse or guilt or even an inclination or idea that it should feel those things, merely fulfilling a needs, the man_ (Obidiah Stane, the memory supplied the name to her mind with a familiar press against her own memory she had heard that name when she studied Stark industries when she sought to destroy it) _smiled as he pulled an arc reactor out of Tony's chest. She saw it from his perspective, looking up, helpless, paralyzed, terrified, then redoubled when Stane said something threatening about Pepper Potts._

_She saw Steve, straddling her body, no_ Tony's _body, his face twisted in some terrible emotion she couldn't tell what it was, his shield raised over his head and she felt the thrill of terror as the blow fell, forgetting it was a memory, forgetting it could not have killed him because he was in truth lying in a cave under her hand then the blow fell not across his face as it had repeatedly a few moments before but across his chest, across where the arc reactor was, where something was wrong--_

_Then she saw the road and she knew it as intimately as Tony knew it, it was the road where her parents, no_ Tony's _parents had died in a car accident, NO, the car accident hadn't killed them! And she saw, he saw the Winter Soldier killing them both and then she remembered his rage and hate and pain and his desired to kill Barnes to punish but not Barnes he wanted to punish Steve because then she remembered Steve knew what Barnes had done and hadn't said, he had to hear it from their enemy, he heard what had happened to his parents from Zemo and Barnes tried to rip out the arc reactor from his chest before Steve destroyed it--_

_She remembered Thor with his hand around his throat; she remembered Rhodey telling him he had to get his mind right; she remembered Pepper saying she needed him to leave. Fury said keep reading, Tony Stark not recommended. Clint warned that Tony Stark might break your back if you turned it on him, and Wanda attacking him with cars, attacking his mind by making him see his friend's deaths, and Natasha saying it was all his ego and he was the one who needed to watch his back and Bruce who had left, just left him to deal with everyone and everything on his own, then Steve answering him yes--_

Wanda dropped the connection to Tony's mind, shuddering and breathing hard. She was on the ground, her chest filled with empathetic pain, trying to regain her bearings she should never have touched his mind. There were tears streaming down her face because of the pain she felt but it wasn't her pain they weren't tears for herself. She tried to pick herself up and saw Tony stirring weakly. She should have never touched it, she couldn't now un-know what she knew and it was his very heart and soul, she had no right--

His eyes opened, confusion crossing his face and then alert concentration in the moment he remembered the sudden attack, the portal. She knew that look, the one he got when facing an unknown enemy, the practiced response of a hero facing whatever newest threat there was. She'd seen a similar look on a doctor's face in the emergency room at the hospital when a patient came in not breathing with no heartbeat. Game time. His eyes landed on her, took in her pajamas, her tears.

"Wanda?" He asked in disbelief, wariness and a guarded look passing his face. She could not doubt that he would be afraid waking up and finding her there, but if he was he hid it from her. He struggled to sit up, pain wincing across his face as his movement discovered his injuries and he was reaching for her to help her as she struggled to sit up. "Hell, what are you doing here, are you hurt? Or are you here to kill me?" He was watching her sharply.

She gave a hysterical laugh, it was so not funny, it was so not funny but he was making a joke about one of the ex-Avengers being there to kill him and it was so absurdly ridiculous and she was still trying to recover from the memories of pain that she was just laughing like an idiot. Tony frowned with concern, taking a quick look around the cave and then again reaching out a hand for her which she took and he pulled her to her feet and at the grasp of his hand she got herself under control.

"I'm not here to kill you Stark," she said, taking a deep breath, surprised at how much of her Sokovian accent came out. She hadn't spoken English out loud for a long time. "I would never purposefully kill anyone. And _I_ am not injured." He stared at her a long moment; assessing. Testing the air as if for a lie, as if for the dishonesty. Wondering if it was a trick or a trap for a moment before deciding, at least for the moment, she wasn't going to kill, maim, or mind control him. 

"I can never tell if you're a good witch or a bad witch," he replied with biting sarcasm. "If I'm not here because of you, then, what? Did they capture you too?" He asked, confused. "How'd that work... was there a blue and black portal? Were there any witnesses? Was any of the others with you? Did you see anyone who may have caused it? Was there--"

"You've got it all wrong," she interrupted, moving her hand dismissively. He didn't flinch or move back, but he watched the motion of her hand. She was still reeling, still hurting from the revelation of the memories. How did he just walk around with those as if they didn't bother him at all? But they clearly did. They were the memories closest to the surface when she accidentally accessed his memories. She wondered if he was aware of it. "I wasn't with the others, I was in Sokovia."

"You aren't with the others fighting terrorists? But I thought--"

"Stark, shut up and listen!" She said irritably, grabbing his arm. He looked down at the small hand grasping him, his brow furrowed, angry, cautious. It was the first time he remembered her ever touching him. It shut him up and she saw did not miss how he drew away from her, an automatic response that she did not blame him for though it still hurt, she couldn't think why she cared but she did. She could not help but think of his memory of her, her fierce concentration and beauty, wild and fierce and fearsome, and he knew he was vulnerable to her attacks, the armor was nothing to her power, she could take him apart physically she could cripple him emotionally and mentally. Though they had fought together before, against Ultron, he had seen her much more often fighting against him, in opposition to, in defiance of. She let go of him but reluctantly, as if taking his arm longer would take away his fear of it.

He was injured though, she could see that now when she let go of his arm and it held his side. "I left Steve and Clint and the others," she explained while trying to get a better look at his injury but he was covering it. "I went back to Sokovia alone, to--" she wasn't sure, "help people there." Though that seemed a woefully inadequate explanation for what she was trying to do and it made her feel judged by him, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, her little efforts at making the world a better place when he invented miraculous machines and built and fought for a better world himself in spectacular fashion but he was only looking at her mildly, still in question, he didn't look to be judging her. "And I was... talking to Vision when I saw the portal open, the rift--"

"Ah, the coffee," Tony said. He shook his head but smiled a little. "Distracting." She swallowed hard at a lump in her throat, angry as if he'd accused her but he probably didn't realize that she'd seen the memory of his conversation with Vision after James Rhodes had fallen.

Her voice was raw now, as it pushed past the lump in her throat, she hoped he didn't know her well enough to notice. "I saw the portal open. Vision was able to tap the power of the tesseract and he pulled me there. I was going to use my telepathy to pull you out of there, but didn't work. It pulled me in with you. I thought because of our connection, me and Vision, if I were with you he may be able to find you. Find us. So I--" she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. She was so embarrassed, having acted without thinking or only thinking briefly. She would probably be one of the last people on the face of the planet he would want to be stuck in a cave with. He was a genius, after all, he probably would have been fine without her. All her thoughts and reasons why she helped him seemed so stupid and small now.

He stepped toward her, favoring his right side, his eyes intently on hers. He rubbed his face. "Thank you," he said finally, but she saw that he was still keeping a mask on, annoyance crossed his face and she couldn't be sure why-- was it that he was annoyed he had to thank her? Was it that he was at her mercy again? Was it that Vision had been communicating with her? There was no way to know and she didn't want to ask.

"You are hurt," she said instead and he frowned. She stepped to him carefully, hoping he wouldn't flinch away this time and he didn't, and she gave him the piece of her robe to press against his head, reaching up carefully to show him where the injury was.

He touched it, smearing the blood across his fingers. "I'm fine." He spent a few moments tapping on his wristwatch which displayed a complicated looking holographic image, holding the piece of the robe against the wound as he studied it. His frowned deepened. "Okay, I'm out of ideas. I'm guessing we're not on earth? That's fine, actually, I'm not a huge fan of caves on earth. This could be a pleasant change, perhaps they will dispense with the formal torture and go right for murder, who knows?" He seemed to be rambling a bit, unsettled, and it made her more nervous. He'd been Iron Man a long time, never afraid or anxious during a battle but perhaps his joking around had hidden it, at least from her. 

She watched him in silence. Though one part of her was more anxious at his anxiety, another part of her was relieved. She'd always wondered if something was wrong with her when she was uncomfortable during a mission. Steve and Natasha, even Rhodes had helped train her in ways to keep calm under pressure but she never liked it. Never seemed as easy as the others, despite the fact that she was more than capable of protecting herself. Tony was more like her; worried. For some reason that calmed her, ironically enough.

"Stark, it will be all right. Vision will find us." As soon as she spoke, she knew the words were true; her attention sharpened; she listened. She couldn't hear him but she could almost sense him. It was like catching a scent on the wind, too faint and too fast to identify, but she knew just the same that Vision was looking for them and that he would be able to find them. Finding them and bringing them home was two different problems, but she wasn't overly concerned yet. 

"If we don't get murdered first, this wasn't some cosmic accident. I doubt I was drawn here for a nice vacation. But who? Could be tesseract," he muttered. "Begin computations, maintain battery above 50%. Could be Kree. That looks Kree, I swear. That makes no sense though." He looked up at her. "Did you look around? Outside?"

"Yes but I could see very little. The sun has gone down, or perhaps it will be day soon as if the sun will soon rise. It is dark."

"Everyone could use a little twilight sparkle." Despite the dire situation, despite herself, she smiled at the My Little Pony reference.

"My friend Luiza likes that show. I used it to help her learn English." She wasn't sure why she told Tony about Luiza; it never, _never_ would have crossed her mind before. She didn't even tell Clint about her work. It was personal. It was private. It was separate from her work with the Avengers. But she wanted to share something with him, she wanted him to know something private about her. She wished to put him at ease, wanted him to see she was different now from the bitter Sokovian HYDRA agent she was all those years ago, even a different woman than the one who fought him at the airport.

"Luiza," he murmured. "A Sokovian?" He looked up from his watch to get her answer as she nodded. "I'm afraid I'm at the edge of the cliff of my Little Pony knowledge about to fall off. I was making a prosthetic leg for an eight-year-old girl, Lucy, and when I asked what color she said Twilight Sparkle. Like that was the color she wanted." He breathed out through his nose in a small chuckle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kindness and incredible patience as I write this! It's been trickier and more rewarding than I anticipated. I really hope you'll love it!
> 
> A/N For a small glimpse into what the Avengers have been up to since Civil War, you can read the prelude comic. It's SUPER skimpy on details but ****spoiler alert***** it has Steve, Natasha, and Sam doing their thing stopping bad guys, Clint and Scott with their families, and no mention of Wanda. I'm going to go ahead and assume she and Vision are off on their own, but this fic takes place before all that. Tony is trying to prepare to save the world ALL ALONE :*( Just FYI in case you're interested.


	5. Chapter 5

Tony was lying curled on the ground as he pressed the saturated piece of cloth to the wound on his head, his eyes closed. Wanda supposed there was some kind of a weird compliment in that, that he had closed his eyes in her presence. Perhaps a level of trust. On the other hand, he had a brain injury so it was probably best to not read too much into it. He kept brushing off her concern for his injuries, so she really had no idea how injured he was. He would only say he was fine, which he would have said whatever the case so it did little to reassure her. 

And she was worried. She found that interesting, and annoying. She was worried.

Tony Stark and Wanda Maximoff. The two people least capable of dealing with helplessness, captivity. Yet here they were.

She watched him fidget. She knew it was from pain. 

After three hours of anxious and nervous energy, waiting for a possible attack, waiting to see if Vision could find them quickly, discussing theories of what had happened, both of them had fallen into silence, into a weary exhaustion. Wanda had been on her feet the entire day, using her powers. She felt exhausted, now that the adrenaline had worn off somewhat. Maintaining the shield at the entrance of the cave and a light to see by was not overly burdensome, but it was beginning to affect her. It was like being slightly too cold. At first she didn't even notice it, but the longer it went on, the harder it became to endure. It wore away at her natural resilience and buoyant emotional state. She wasn't given to fits of depression or sorrow; when she felt upset or guilty, she always went to work instead of allowing herself to wallow. She frowned slightly as a wave of homesickness for her lonely little apartment, for her brother, for something ineffable. Peace, maybe; but she was not a woman of peace. She felt helpless and hopeless for a moment, for a moment it all caught up with her, and she wondered if anything she was doing or anything she could ever do would make a true and lasting difference.

"What? Why do you look like that?" She glanced over and saw Tony had opened his eyes and had been watching her. "Are you... hurt? Ah. No. You're tired. It's late for you. Seven hours? Is Sokovia seven hours ahead of New York?" She could not help but notice the undercurrent of anger in his voice, although he appeared completely relaxed and unconcerned. Could it be accounted for by his feelings towards her, or did he react with anger when he was hurt?

"Yes, that's right."

"That explains the pajamas."

"What like there are all these possibilities besides wearing them for bed?" She didn't know why she was irritated. She was getting hungry, and yes, tired. And she never expected Tony Stark of all people to see her in her pajamas and of course he had some little comment.

A pause and she saw a crease appear between his eyebrows, his eyes closed tightly as if the light were hurting them but it was dim in the little cave, only her power providing a white light. "I thought maybe you were a slacker. Netflix and... whatever it is that rogue super-powered people do when they are wanted fugitives and can't ostensibly walk down the street without being recognized and possibly arrested. Perhaps Wakanda doesn't have 911? Or they've forgiven and forgotten? T'Challa let you all go, despite the fact we'd been allies and the Accords were his father's--"

He cut off, wincing, his pale cheeks now flushed with anger. Wanda finched as well, though he couldn't see it.

"First of all, I was never in Wakanda. Second, they did not forget," she answered after a moment. She had to unclench her jaw. "Of course not. They haven't forgotten and neither have I. Is that what you think?"

He opened his eyes, squinting. "Are we really going to talk about this?"

"Perhaps we should. Perhaps we all should have a long time ago. Do you have something better to do?"

"Besides die of a traumatic brain injury or bleed out? Not really."

"I could try to help you. Even a genius can't see the back of his own head."

"No thanks." His voice was bitingly angry.

"Fine."

He stood up and took a few steps to stretch, but then held his head as a wave of dizziness passed over him. He definitely had a concussion, maybe even a skull fracture. Head wounds always bled a lot, but he wasn't worried about the wound itself unless they were here long enough for it to get infected. He was just tired, groggy, and stuck in a damn cave of all places with Wanda of all people who had dropped cars on him the last time they'd met.

Strike that. The last time he'd seen her, she was stuck in the Raft in a straight jacket and shock collar. He fought off a wave of nausea. It was hell feeling guilty towards someone you kind of just wanted to hate in peace. He'd tried to avoid any of it and yet here he was. _The universe hates me, _he thought bitterly. At least it wasn't Rogers.__

He'd been moving on. He really had. It was still dark days, but brighter days were ahead. The exodus of his teammates over the Accords had relieved him of a burden he hadn't realized he was carrying. He'd been under unbearable pressure to get the others to sign the Accords, knowing that if he was victorious in doing that, it was only to face an inevitable battle with them at some point in the near future, possibly to their death. Probably to their death. Their abandonment meant that he wouldn't have to see the realization of his worst fear, the same one that Wanda had been so kind to show him before Ultron. It was hard for the people you cared about to die in battle if they didn't join you in battle, there was that.

Certainly Rogers had said he would return if Tony needed him, and despite the insufferable condescension of a non-apology that it felt like at the time, Tony thought he probably meant it. But there was an undeniable fact to face. Zemo had accomplished what he wanted, a crippling blow. Even if Steve came, even if the Avengers were reunited in purpose, it would be all but impossible to work together as a team again. Not after the way they'd fought. He shuddered, remembering both his own rage, pain, and determination and Rogers' face as he slammed his shield across Tony's chest.

Yeah, he was moving on. But he'd traded in one grief and fear for another. Maybe it would have been better to see his friend die, and still love him and be his friend. Maybe it would have been better if he would have died before it came to this. This lifelong grief. Like his own shadow, this failure to repair the Avengers would be with him all his life, he could not escape it.

When he opened his eyes, the dreary pressure of his headache pressing like a vice, Wanda was closer, watching him, her face calm and without expression, without fear, without accusation. Her hazel eyes, shading to green like a leaf in spring, were locked on his face. He frowned, but despite the inclination did not draw away from her.

"No," he said finally, studying her face as she was his. "No I didn't think you'd forgotten. Of all the uncharitable things I've thought about you, that wasn't really one of them." The edge of sarcasm in his voice was back, a shield. A poor shield, but the only one he had.

"One hundred and seventeen." His head jerked up, emotions flickering on his face faster than she could identify them. Guilt, anger, horror, pain-- other things she didn't know. But certainly pain. She wondered if he'd ever really forgiven her. She wondered if she'd ever really forgiven him, either. 117 lives lost in Sokovia, there was a terrible math to it, the exact number of countries that drafted and adopted the Sokovian Accords, a hell of a coincidence. They were inches away from each other, nothing between them except all of their history which seemed immeasurable, seemed insurmountable. "I was trying to stop the bloodshed and I made it... it was so much worse. The destruction. I was trying. I sometimes wonder why I keep trying. I do try. But I'm not sure why, after that."

He looked down, his face glowing with the soft and comforting scarlet light of her powers. He looked crushed and just... so full of rage. He turned his head away, his jaw set.

"What I did..." her voice came out strangled with emotion, with guilt and sorrow and also anger, "what I did was wrong. I never told you-- how sorry I am. I am sorry. I am sorry I blamed you. I know what it's like to be truly responsible, and making you responsible for my parent's death was... it was a disservice to their memory. And I'm sorry for, for the vision, the fear that I... when you got the scepter. And Ultron, I'm sorry I ever worked with him. I am responsible. Tony my brother died," she said finally pleading when he wouldn't look at her and then he did, looked her right in the eyes which made her realize he did not do that often because the full effect of it froze her. It wasn't that she saw his hidden depths, but more became aware that there were hidden depths to the volatile genius, depths that for all the videos and new articles and all the publicity and how very public his life was lived, no one including her could really understand everything. Even with the memories she'd accessed, that was scratching the surface, that was nothing. 

He was breathing hard, his hand on his chest, smeared with blood that had gotten on his hand from his head wound. "That--" she watched, aghast, as he wiped away a tear, a quick swipe of his hand, smearing blood on his cheek, looking away again. She watched his face close off, becoming devoid of expression. It was eerie, almost, to see everything, his heart on his sleeve, then nothing. Tears continued to fall but he ignored them now and he was completely silent, no sobbing or choking or soft crying sounds. He could have been watching a bird out the window, for all the expression he was showing. He sighed. "That actually helps." He shuddered and knelt down and she leaned over and put a hand on his shoulder, unsure, her hair falling over her shoulder, scarlet light swirling over her wrist before it settled, dissipated. He sat down and she sat beside him, her hand still on his shoulder.

"I could have... I could have done so many things differently. You can believe it or not, but I am sorry about your parents. I tracked that down, by the way. After Ultron, I did my best to make sure everyone involved in it, using my weapons against..." he turned his head as his face twisted with painful emotion before it smoothed back to calm, "against civilians. It was part of a stolen shipment that was sold on the black market. I made sure. I really did, Wanda, I didn't have any way to tell you because we just tracked down the last few individuals. They're all going to pay for their crimes. My lawyers are on it. I wanted to tell you that."

"Stolen? Not sold by Stark Industries?" She felt a sick twist of guilt and shame; she had just assumed so much, and it was wrong, all wrong. The havoc she'd wreaked on this man's life, and he wasn't responsible for anything she'd thought. 

"No. Not this time," he said grimly. "But that doesn't mean... it easily could have been. I wasn't... I was so naive and self-absorbed, I didn't pay attention to what my own company was doing. I still bear responsibility. Even if those bombs were stolen there were plenty of other times I-- I made money off of... I didn't know. I'm sorry. I know it's cold comfort, but I did not know."

"And I did not know Ultron's true intentions. We both know now. Don't we." 

Her heart was trembling. She reached up and wiped away her own tear, surprised. She had not cried since the funeral. What was it about Tony Stark that put her in tears? In truth, his apology was appreciated but secondary to the relief she felt at telling him she was sorry. It was as if a weight, a terrible, terrible weight had been lifted off her shoulders, off her heart. Tony represented everyone that she'd always wanted to apologize to, all the people she wanted to tell she was different, her vision was clearer, her heart was in a better place. It was in the right place. She was trying to help. She was trying to help by doing better, by creating a better place, not simply by enacting vengeance or justice or stopping bad guys. She was actively doing. She tried to be kind. She tried to notice people. She listened. She helped. 

"I guess we do."

"I don't want you to forgive me," she said, her voice shaking. He glanced over at her. "You can hate me," she said insistently. "After what I did to Dr. Banner, all the destruction, I know the effects of my actions aren't over for those people. Those families. They have to live with it. You have had to live with it. You don't have to forgive me, Stark." You can't abuse someone and expect their forgiveness even if you are sorry, she knew that. "I don't forgive myself."

"I can understand that, actually," he murmured. "So maybe we don't forgive ourselves. Huh? But maybe we can forgive each other. If I don't forgive you, I guess I'd be a huge hypocrite for wanting anyone to forgive me either. I'm sorry Wanda. For everything. I was your Raza. You know?"

"What? Who is Raza?"

"The man who kept me captive, once upon a time. He was supposed to kill me, but instead he wanted to use me to build him a bomb. This is all ancient history, but I can't help but see... he wanted a weapon and he had me tortured. _That_ part's not me, but the... he created his own demon. I became a weapon against him. Like you. You wanted to never be helpless again. Never be the one standing there to watch and not be able to do anything. Never be like that. Be helpless. You decided on a broader target than I did, but. It only." He stopped, shifting, again as if he were in pain, his face growing pale. "You thought it was me. You thought I was your Raza. My name was on the bomb, on the buildings. I saw my parents die, I get it. I thought they were in a car accident. Ahhhh." He went silent, fighting pain, fighting something.

"I know about the Winter Soldier," she said, her voice low, she felt her cheeks flush.

"Rogers told you?" He asked quickly.

"No." His surprised and somewhat cynical hopefulness face fell to a kind of resigned disappointment. "When I was waking you up, when you were unconscious. I saw a memory of it. I did not mean to." She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

He went very still then nodded slowly, closing his eyes again, his tears dry now. "So he didn't tell you. I don't know why I thought he would. I thought maybe he'd feel like he owed it to me. To my parents. That... that was foolish of me. He would never do anything that would jeopardize Barnes." She tasted the bitterness of his words.

"Why didn't _you_ tell everyone the truth? You could have made the video public."

"What good would that have done?"

"People would know the truth."

He waved a hand, still keeping his eyes closed. "I'm a pretty selfish bastard, kid, just ask Natasha. If I don't see a direct benefit to myself I don't do it."

"We both know that's not true. I've seen you do lots of things that don't benefit you." Like fly a nuke through a wormhole. Not expecting to be able to fly back out.

He gave her an annoyed look, frowning, annoyance bleeding into his words, cutting. "Well, believe it or not, I have tried to keep you people from getting killed. I don't know what Rogers told you but you can trust me when I say it was never my goal to have you all killed or summarily executed _or_ imprisoned, I was actively trying to avoid that. The media just found out that Barnes was falsely accused of the UN bombing. You think I want the heat back on by telling them Steve Rogers was protecting _another_ HYDRA agent, one who killed one of the brightest minds in US history and his wife along with him? You think I could have kept things under control if it got out? You think the world would care if _Bucky Barnes_ " he said angrily with air quotes, "didn't remember doing it because of HYDRA's brainwashing? Guilty by reason of insanity is still guilty, and the sentence for it still looks a hell of a lot like a life sentence. Think of any other mass murderer on the face of the planet and none of _them_ would get any special treatment like that, even with extenuating circumstances." He was silent a moment, breathing hard, angry, so angry. "Anyway, that's private. Okay? It's private. I wouldn't use their deaths to go after _them,_ they wanted to leave." He clenched his fist, agitated, forcibly calming himself down again.

She took in that information. She had felt his rage, red and hateful, toward Barnes and Steve. Murderously angry. How he'd managed to go from that to not telling the truth about them was anyone's guess, but he'd had several hours stranded in freezing conditions to cool off and think about it.

"For what it is worth... what he told us about Siberia. Sam was angry with you when he saw Jame's arm, he said you told him you would come as a friend. And Steve said that you did. That what happened there was not your fault. He wouldn't say exactly what happened but he wouldn't blame you for it. Wouldn't let anyone speak against you. James said the same thing, it wasn't your fault. But no one was speaking against you, Stark. We all felt... regret. Sad. It felt like someone had died. We spoke about the good times with you, memories. All you'd done for us, saved us so many times, and it ended like this. It was like you died."

He was silent a moment, taking that information in. "Rogers never spoke against me, huh? Insufferable bastard." He made a face. 

"He just wants people to be happy."

"You're not wrong. I will just say he badly misjudged what it was that would keep me happy, but." She smiled slightly.

It got quiet again and Tony rubbed his temples. They sat in silence a few minutes, with only the sound of the wind outside the cave to break it up. "You know, Natasha told me you thought about signing the Accords. Why'd you change your mind?"

"The Accords seemed to me a leash. A collar around my neck. After Nigeria, I thought it was perhaps best. I deserved it, maybe. But I realized that I was being a coward, allowing other people to make decisions for me so that if something went wrong I would not feel as bad. I want to be responsible, Stark. For myself. The good and the bad."

"It meant losing everything," he murmured. "But in the end it didn't save _me_ from losing everything, did it? And now I have to deal with Ross." He rolled his eyes, grimacing.

"Right. And how would Bruce feel about that I wonder?" She couldn't help but ask with a bit of sarcasm.

Instantly his anger, now fanned to rage flared up at her and she knew she had overstepped a line. " _That_ is a _hell_ of a thing for you to say to me," he spat out. "It's thanks to you that he left! You and Natasha freaking Romanoff, forcing him to be what he hated and feared, using him like a weapon. Is it any wonder he helped me with the Ultron project? Maybe people would leave him the hell alone, stop using him, if there was something stronger. He's been hounded every second, no rest, no relief--"

"Yet you joined forces with the man responsible for much of it," she pointed out. He glared at her.

"Do you honestly think I have some kind of _choice_ in that? Ross is the Secretary of State, Maximoff. Contrary to your belief I don't control the government."

"You don't trust him but you expect the rest of us to?"

"No, idiot! Ross didn't write the Accords. He was just the man whose _job_ it was to present them to us. And maybe you weren't listening, or maybe you think you're the only person on the planet capable of a change of heart, but Ross isn't the evil villain here. No I don't trust him. But he never sought a conflict. He had a job he was tasked with. I gave him every alternative I could and he always accepted it, even if it was reluctantly."

"I'll try to keep that in mind when I remember him putting the shock collar and straight jacket on me," she said waspishly.

"I never said he wasn't an asshole, but I'm sorry, what was the alternative, exactly? I tried to keep you someplace safe and pleasant and that didn't work. What would you have done?"

"You never once just asked me, Stark," she said sharply. "Maybe you should have, I don't know, just talked to me."

"Technically I'd retired, and technically you hated me. I thought if it came from me it would quite possibly push you farther away from being okay with it."

She contemplated that. "Fair enough," she relented. "But do you honestly think Bruce would care? That he'd sign them? You don't think it's hypocritical?"

"No I don't," he said, his voice raised. "I don't think he'd sign and I don't think it's hypocritical. Because Bruce never asked to be part of the Avengers. He would have retired, happily. He would have every protection from people making him Hulk out in the name of a greater threat. No one ever gave him a damn choice in it. This would have helped him, too. It's protected others from conscription, actually. And I had hoped, we had hoped, I mean Natasha, that it would keep the Avengers together because united we could have forced them to change the parts we didn't like."

There was silence as she contemplated this and he reigned in his temper. "Do you regret signing? If it meant staying together, would you go back and unsign?" She finally asked.

"No, no. They were important. They were _permission,_ Maximoff, which feels really important to the people who have no other control over what you decide to do in their perspective countries. What was it again you said to Vision? You can't control their fear? I mean. Yeah. You can. By at least _pretending_ you'll respect their wishes. And I wish it would have worked out with the Avengers because we have bigger things to worry about, but it wasn't... the Accords didn't end up mattering. It was the other things. Other problems. Me not signing the Accords wouldn't have saved us, and it actually gives me some very important say in what happens next." He sighed and rubbed his face, covered as it was by blood and sweat and tears and dust. "I held on too long. Gripped tighter the more it hurt. I was supposed to retire, but Ross brought me in on the Accords and I honest to goodness thought I could help. It was good to let go of that _ideal_ I had, about the team, good to let go. Even too late."

He flinched, remembering two weeks ago. He was at the Compound, unveiling to the US military, members of the UN Council, members of a Wakandan science team, and members of the Stark Industries team a project that they had all been working on collaboratively for months. He was proud of what they'd accomplished, for his hand in it. There was a large crowd of people, cheering and celebrating, and he had Pepper's hand. He had grabbed it in a way that he could feel her engagement ring digging into his palm, he liked that. His mother's ring, she'd loved it. He was moving on with his life in every way, he hadn't thought about the ex-Avengers in weeks, and yet standing there he thought _If I saw Steve,_ because they were near a hill he used to sit on that overlooked the grounds, he liked to draw from there, _If I saw Steve I would show him this._ But if Tony had approached him, Rogers might have felt sorry for him, he was basically a compassionate person, but Tony wasn't sorry, he wasn't pining; what was a team without trust? 

"I was right to let it go," he murmured, but he didn't know who he was convincing. He shook himself and looked over at her. "Listen. If we get out of this... take care, okay? Be careful. I wasn't just trying to protect the Avengers, or the public, or trying to hurt your feelings when I asked Vision to keep you in the Compound. I've been tracking some very bad people who were interested in you, people who thought you were a threat and people who thought they could use you and people who thought your defection from HYDRA was a front. It wasn't just Ross, okay? Are you listening? It changes things that you aren't with Rogers. Vision and I both felt that you needed more practice with your powers before you went on another mission, but that was only part of it. It wasn't just protecting innocent people, though I of all people understand that, all right? People I love have suffered because of me. I wanted to keep you from that but it wasn't my place. I didn't want... when I saw you at the Raft, that was what I wanted to avoid. I was trying."

"I know." She did, but sometimes she was still angry at him. Still resented him. Old feelings die hard. Sometimes she forgot she knew better. Perhaps after this she would not forget as easily. "But it all felt like punishment for the people who have died. But accepting blame for the people who died when a lot more would have died without our intervention seems... it seems wrong."

"Like I said, the Accords to me was about accountability."

"We can accept accountability without the Accords, Tony! Before they were even a rumor, Steve told me... the deaths in Lagos were on him."

"Big words but did he ever once _do_ anything, actual actions, to show that? Huh? What steps did he ensure to make sure it wouldn't happen again? _Nothing,_ he did nothing. And when Ross came to me to tell me he would ensure it wouldn't happen again by locking you up at the request of the Wakandan ambassador, _I _stepped in and said you would be confined to the compound! What do I get for my efforts to keep you out of their damn hands except my friend put through ten floors and a left arm--" he cut himself off, taking a deep breath. "You want to talk about accountability, the Accords would have gone a long way."__

____

"It might be just another hoop to jump through that will justify them stopping us if it didn't fit their agendas, Tony. I saw it enough."

____

"With HYDRA."

____

"I'm not HYDRA." Her abrupt statement made him turn and look at her. She hadn't missed his reference to James being "another" HYDRA agent, he'd been talking about her.

____

"I figured Rogers would make sure of that. Unless you mind controlled him." He eyed her narrowly.

____

"I didn't."

____

"Yeah. Probably not. I'd be dead and you'd be happy right now if you were HYDRA. Unless you plan on mind controlling _me_."

____

"Not today," she said after pretending to think about it. She paused, knowing there was a serious question behind his sarcasm. How could he trust her? How could anyone? He had trusted Steve Rogers, Obadiah Stane, Fury, Natasha, T'Challa. All of them had betrayed that trust. Even Bruce had left him, and they had formed a tight friendship. He would never have believed that Bruce would leave him, it just goes to show you. Maybe he'd felt he didn't have a choice, but so had all of them. All those that betrayed his trust before thought they didn't have a choice. And she had nothing to say. He didn't have a choice but to trust her, his trust actually didn't matter, they both knew that. He was absolutely vulnerable to her, they all were. If she wanted she could destroy them all without lifting a finger. 

____

"I know it doesn't count for much. But I've never lied to you." He raised his eyebrows briefly in acknowledgment of the truth of that. She was one of only a few people who could say that. "I'm not lying now. I will never mind control you. And unless it's an emergency or to save your life, I won't access your mind. You have my word."

____

He looked at her oddly, realizing he felt trust for her when he never expected to feel anything but anger and bitterness toward her. The woman he saw before him _was_ different from the one in Sokovia, than the one at the airport. She seemed stronger and more mature, and he found himself grudgingly respecting her. "All right. Let's say I believe you."

____

The two of them stood and faced each other. It felt to her as if she'd crossed some horizon, though it was Tony who had the farthest distance to cross. He'd decided to trust her against all odds. He thought that might be important. It might mean that the future darkness wasn't too bad, not so bad as he thought. Not if he could trust her. He felt it was a harbinger of something. "All right. Well, we might want to think about trying to find some water." He glanced at his watch, surprised that six hours had passed since they'd been transported. "There's a chance--"

____

Wanda stiffened. "Something's trying to get in the cave." 

____

"Can you hold them?" He asked quickly.

____

"I don't know-- ah!" She knelt to the ground as something _challenged_ her shield. She wasn't expecting it to be so strong, she was unprepared, but she met it and scarlet mist surrounded her briefly like dust shaken from her clothes. He only had a gauntlet to help defend them, which he activated, kneeling beside her briefly to help her stand up. "They have some kind of energy weapon. I won't be able to stop them for long." Tony moved to the front of the cave and peeked around the corner, a quick assessment of what they were facing.

____

"They look like the alien drones we fought in New York, at least five. They're not very strong, but their weapons could kill you, so you need to be careful. That was years ago, we can't know what to expect. Okay. We got this kid. Hang on and when I say, drop the shield." He moved into position in front of her, partially shielding her body with his. "I'm going to use my gauntlet to shoot one of their guns. It should explode. I need you to keep them from killing me, and keep the blast from killing me. Can you do that?" She nodded once, her body tense with the exertion it took to keep the shield in place with the five of them attacking it at once. 

____

"Now!"

____


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supergiant is one of my favorite marvel villains!  
> She's one of the Black Order but wasn't included in what Marvel Studio's tweeted during the D23 Expo in July, so I feel like I can use her character without going too much off the realm of possiblity :D

 

Her brother had once told her that when he used his powers, it did not seem to him that he sped up but rather that everything slowed around him. She connected with him at times and she could see what he meant; relatively speaking, everything looked slowed almost to a stop. Eerily, she felt that again as she dropped the energy shield and fired a hex at the first alien stepping into the cave. It collapsed easily. The cave gave them a huge benefit, as they could not all get through, but blasts were going off everywhere as she tried to cower behind Tony as she shielded them with all her strength.

He fired his gauntlet, squarely hitting a large weapon in one of the alien's hands. At first she thought nothing would happen, but the gun in the alien's hand sparked with dark light, and then an electrical sphere an odd shade of green enveloped the alien and the creature, seeing it, tried to drop the weapon but the sphere grew exponentially, so fast she could hardly follow it's movement before it ruptured, killing three of the aliens and the shock of the blast battered her energy shield, shaking her to her teeth.

"Did you know that would happen?" She asked through gritted teeth, holding the shield but just barely.

"I mean, in theory," he said. "I only have one more shot, kid."

"Save it. I think I can take out the other two. Get behind me!" He scrambled behind her, dust flying with the quickness of his movement.

"Careful--"

She could not keep the shield and fire a hex so she dropped the shield and in the same instant and shot scarlet hexes at the aliens, who crumpled easily, dropping their weapons. She used telekinesis to fling them away and accessed its mind in the same instant, to discover their enemy--

She screamed in horror, clamping her hands over her ears, filled with, filled with--

_Fear._

Something terrible, its mind full of darkness, malice, and _death, death, death--_

"Wanda!" Tony grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to him, shaking her slightly, looking into her face. "What's wrong, are you okay?"

Tony Stark had never been closer to death than that moment, though he didn't realize it. Never, when his chest was filled with shrapnel. Not when his heart had stopped when he was being waterboarded. Not when the arc reactor in his chest failed when Pepper stopped Obadiah Stane. Not when he flew a nuke in the sky, faced oblivion, saw the shadow of the world's death. In her fear, Wanda's eyes were burning red, scarlet like flames enveloping her body, and in one instant of reflex, she almost killed him-- not just death, but annihilation. Nothing left, nothing to bring home to Pepper, to Rhodey, to Happy, to Vision. Their friend would be utterly gone. But through her own fear and horror and the terrifying strength of her power bent on destroying an unimaginable threat, she saw his warm brown eyes, full of concern, and she saw him whole and complete as she never had before-- as a human being, not Tony Stark, not Iron Man or the leader of the Avengers or a foe or an ally but rather much more like her Sokovian family that she didn't know but she loved all the more, waiting to know them better like a beautiful day unfolding when you didn't have plans but the weather was perfect and you felt good and happy. It made no sense but the thought cracked through the dark, black metal shell of her fear and she pulled back from death, from harm, and it was the most joyous moment, only a moment, because she'd never trusted herself to test the limits of her restraint and it was a gift Tony had inadvertently given her.

She was finally in control. Complete control. She was unstoppable.

She gave Tony a brilliant, joyous, ecstatic _smile._

Then she stood and walked to the cave entrance, Tony struggling to his feet to follow her but she pushed him back with a hex and raised a shield. She could not be worrying about him right now, she would need all her focus and attention for the enemy she was facing.

A woman, standing at least six and a half feet tall, paced casually perhaps a hundred yards from the cave entrance. She turned and faced Wanda as she exited the cave, apparently mildly interested in her appearance. "You're not the metal man," she said. Her voice rose within Wanda every warning, every alert, like the sound of bees as a hive was kicked. Like the rhythmic and electric sound of a downed power line. The sound of something powerfully dangerous, outside of reasoning or mercy. The woman had blue skin, at least what was visible of it; she wore a skin-tight white and black uniform and a long white hooded cloak and black boots that reached her mid-thigh. There was something profoundly disturbing about her, insect-like, but she was beautiful in a way. The way that a destructive storm, a falling avalanche, a tsunami was beautiful. Her eyes held no pupil, no iris, only white and glowing eyes that could see anything or nothing. It was eerie and foreign and so completely alien that the hair on the back of Wanda's neck stood up, a thing she thought was only for books, but her body's response was instinctual, feral.

The woman had inadvertently revealed herself, unguarded for a moment when Wanda glimpsed inside an alien's mind. The alien woman, named Supergiant, was an omnipath-- she could possess any mind over any distance, and she-- _she was horrible._ She could not only possess a mind, but devour it, consume its intellect. She belonged to something called a Black Order, and in the glimpse she'd had she saw it was connected somehow to the alien invasion years ago in New York, to an unimaginably powerful being named _Thanos_.

She was sent to destroy, to _consume_ Tony Stark's mind, to gather information about the earth's staunchest defenders and render him, their brightest mind, useless. In that moment Wanda felt fear again, not for facing Supergiant, but realizing how complacent they'd been, no, not _them,_ all of them except Tony, he'd been afraid of this always, she'd seen it in their first introduction. Loki was subdued but there was something worse, something larger, and one piece of that was standing in front of her and lifting her lip in a sneer.

She spoke nothing more to the insignificant little female that had appeared unexpectedly from the cave. She would consume and crush her mind as she had thousands before her. But when she reached out to do so, instead of crumpling like paper it was like grabbing a sharp knife, the harder she grasped the more she was injured-- she hissed in surprise and pain and anger. None had dared forbid her before, none could stop or fight her. She, in her hubris, had not brought much back up; even if the iron man had been wearing an armor it would not protect his mind, so the alien drones had only been a precaution. It had irritated and slightly surprised her when they were destroyed, but he was supposed to be a resourceful man. The fact that a mere mortal woman had stymied her attack on her mind, had stood against her, infuriated her, awakening a terrible rage. As she reacted to the unexpected pain, the woman flew towards her in a haze of scarlet, landing before her in a sphere of deep red like blood.

"You dare!" Supergiant roared in anger, drawing her powers back and straightening her arms with a flick of her wrists. Two orbs of electric blue, flickering, intimidating, appeared on her hands and ribbons of blue light circled her, forming a sphere around her, streaking in unearthly beauty. Wanda could feel like a pressure in her mind Tony trying to get out of the cave, the absolute blithering idiot, Supergiant would destroy him in less than a moment, he would die or become her zombie slave, a drone, his mind invaded for eternity, watching himself aid the enemy and give them information to destroy his friends, his family, the entire world. She felt so angry at his insistence but also knew it was fear for her that drove him and pushed him back in warning, felt him fall to the ground, _Stay back!_

Supergiant was a powerful being, ancient and merciless, as unrepentant as a fox in a hen house and as sure of her victory. She rose in the air, her face to the sky, her white cloak spreading out around her and Wanda rose to meet her. Supergiant attacked first, supremely confident and slightly curious, growing angrier as her attack was rebuffed. Her lithe body folded in on itself as she drew in her arms and legs and then in a burst of unthinkable power pushed outward the blue energy which slammed into Wanda like fist. She flew back, slamming into the ground, only barely able to cushion her fall to keep from breaking her body but she kept the shield up, protecting her mind. Wanda felt rage grow within her in answer to the cruelty without malice, without empathy, a creature wholly bent on destruction without a second thought.

Her answering blow against Supergiant reverberated in the dim planet void of life, causing a purple cascade of light and energy. Wanda exulted in her strength and power, and though the blow and her answer had sapped her strength, she was not done. Drawing deep within herself, she again fired against the powerful alien. They battled fiercely, without finesse, to destroy. Wanda began to realize that she may not escape unscathed, but there was no choice but to win; if Supergiant won, she would die, for she would never let this creature have her mind. But she wouldn't be able to save Tony Stark if she lost. Her attacks began to have an edge of desperation.

Wanda was more powerful, but she was less experienced. Supergiant was infinitely more capable in battle, having seen thousands in her terrible life. She fought with her teeth bared, an old bear fighting against a more powerful and younger one, but time and experience were on her side and she was still shielding Tony's mind. She was getting tired but it only made her fight harder.

Supergiant blasted her again, merciless, vicious. Wanda landed hard, knocking the wind out of her. She hurled giant stones at the giant alien, desperately trying to get a moment to rest, to catch her breath. Supergiant flew away but seemed uninjured, only enraged, and attacked her again relentlessly. She could not access Wanda's mind, it caused her great pain and injured her to do so, so she settled for trying to kill her. The little witch was proving remarkably resilient, but she could tell that it was a battle the mortal could not win.

She slammed her powerful energy against Wanda's shield and Wand screamed in pain. The shield held off the bulk of the attack but some of it bled through, tearing into her body, breaking her arm, making her nose bleed, a gash appearing across her scalp and bleeding profusely. Since kinetic motion was such a huge part of controlling her power, it was a crippling blow as far as her attacking the alien back. She would not be able to attack Supergiant's mind; it contained multitudes. She was almost completely invulnerable to telepathic attack, and any attempts would only allow her access to Wanda's mind. She was running out of ideas and she'd never been in so much pain.

She used her powers to envelop the pain, compartmentalize it within her own mind. She was not done fighting. She was not done.

She pushed herself up on one knee, her eyes burning scarlet. She attacked again, using all her strength, the strength that had pulled Ultron's heart from his vibranium chest, the strength that had obliterated his drones, the power that could contain explosions and cause hundreds of people to evacuate the city; could bend metal; could control minds. It hit its mark, knocking Supergiant down, injuring her, but Wanda knew instantly it would not be enough. She could feel it. The next blow by the powerful alien would kill her. She fought off unconsciousness, pain trying to escape the mental bounds she'd placed on it, and looked defiantly at Supergiant, lifting her chin and standing up.

But the terrifying alien had turned away when she saw Wanda struggling on the ground, as unconcerned as if Wanda were no more than a pesky dog that she had kicked aside. In the moments that Wanda was trying to recover herself, she had inadvertently let the cave barrier slip and Supergiant had pulled Tony from the cave like a spider drawing it's victim close with a web. Tony was helpless but angry, and used his last blast against her, hitting her square in the chest. Unprepared, she momentarily dropped him, knocking the wind out of him. Unable to breathe, barely able to move, he scrambled to get away as Supergiant, angry but undamaged from the repulsor blast, walked over to him and picked him up bodily by his shirt front. He clawed at her hand but he his strength was nothing to her, nothing. She grabbed his face in her hand, staring into his eyes and smiling victoriously, viciously. She reached toward Tony's mind to destroy it, devour it.

With the last of her strength, all that she had left within her, Wanda restruck the barrier, but it was wrong, she could tell; she wasn't strong enough, not with her broken arm. She left her own mind too vulnerable, she couldn't protect both at once. She screamed and she heard Tony screaming her name but it felt like claws in her mind, all she could feel was pain but she would never let Supergiant control her, she'd die first, and she fought with all her energy and she could feel the bluish energy of the alien's power colliding with her scarlet mist, throwing off purple bolts of energy, it would have been beautiful if she could see it but she was blinded by pain, she could see nothing but her own death in front of her but by heaven she would not let herself be controlled--

With a sound like _DOOM_ a wide stream of powerful light slammed from the sky to the ground between them, rushing like a thunderous waterfall, knocking the two fighters to the ground. Instantly she felt relief from the pain of the attack against her mind but she cried out in pain, landing on her injured arm. Her head spun, but her heart leaped within her because she recognized the light; it was the Bifrost, the Asgardian road, she knew it from her training as an Avenger. Though she hadn't seen Thor come and go on it in person, it was easily recognizable.

Apparently Supergiant recognized it as well, and guessed its meaning because she looked on in anger, fear, and disbelief as half a dozen Asgardians appeared, armed to the teeth and wearing helmets that may have protected their minds from psychic attack because Supergiant apparently did not attack them that way.

It was a short but brutal fight. Supergiant was a parasite, but she fought without mercy, and she was powerful but outmatched. Two Asgardians were minorly injured in the ferocious melee but Wanda did not even have time to act before the alien woman was slain. Still, the warrior woman who approached her had blood on her cheek and was sweating as she reached down a hand to help Wanda to her feet. But Wanda could not stand; she could barely move. The woman peered down at her more carefully. She was a beautiful woman, powerful in every sense of the word, with brown hair and bright brown eyes. To Wanda, she seemed gigantic, perhaps taller than her by more than a foot. Feebly she looked up at her, unable to even summon enough energy to look into her mind.

"Are you Midgardian?" The warrior asked in disbelief. Wanda bit off a wince of pain as she could no longer hold it at bay. She dropped all her shields, too tired, too tired-- "Do not fear little witch. You will come to no more harm. Tales of your bravery and prowess against Supergiant will not go unheralded in our halls!" She boomed in a carrying voice.

"Get back, get back!" Tony had staggered over to her, injured from Supergiant's rough handling, the concussion, the pure trauma. "You big oafs never know your own strength, she's injured can't you see that? Who are you?" He demanded. Wanda wanted to speak, but she'd never felt so drained, so tired in her entire life. She felt sick, and weak as a newborn kitten. She did not even trouble herself to speak. She closed her eyes. She felt Tony's warm, callused hands touch her gently as he inspected her wounds, putting himself between her and the Asgardians.

The Asgardian appeared amused and sheathed her sword. "I am Zisa, human," she said pointedly, as if you ask _and just who the hell are you?_

"Tony Stark. You're Asgardians? Can you get us home? She's injured! Wanda, are you all right? Did she harm you?"

"I think I'm okay," Wanda said shakily. "I don't think she harmed my mind, but my arm--" Tony gently examined the injured arm, using his belt and a piece of her robe to fashion a sling for it.

"We can bring her with us to receive medical care," Zisa said dismissively.

"Uh, no, that's sweet, but no. Really. You guys are great at battle wounds and all but someone who knows human physiology will be better suited-- Wanda? Wanda, stay with me, here, dear." She felt his arm go under her shoulders as he cradled her and heard his call as if from a distance and her eyes struggled to open. So tired.

"You are injured as well," Zisa said pointedly to Tony as her companions joined them.

"Well no one bothered to equip us with helmets like those so yeah, I was almost defenseless, but she stopped her. She could have been killed, it was so stupid of her--"

"She battled well, though her choice of battle gear was not wise--."

"That's sleeping clothes, not battle gear! She was getting ready for bed, not war! And thanks for swooping down at the end there! A few minutes sooner would have been appreciated!" Tony said angrily, agitated. "We've been in that damn cave for hours!"

"Indeed, it was the cave that shielded you from Heimdall's eye. The Black Order gained access to the tesseract to try and kidnap and destroy some famously intelligent Midgardian--"

"Yeah, me!" Tony said with mounting impatience.

Zisa looked doubtful, but inclined her head politely. "When the tesseract was activated, there was some interference and Supergiant and her minions did not know where you had landed. It took them some time to find you and it wasn't until the Witch Warrior exited the cave that Heimdall alerted us that aid in battle was needed."

"Listen, I have about 1,186 questions for you, but it has to wait. We've got to get her to earth. Can you get us home or not? Heimdall, buddy, if you're watching, help us out here."

"Very well. I will see you safely home and my companions will bring news of our victory home. Although, I fear that it will have repercussions that a member of the Black Order was slain."

Tony went very pale at this pronouncement, clenching his jaw and closing his eyes as if against pain. "It can wait, it can wait. Unless you think there will be an immediate threat to earth?" He looked up at the warrior woman.

She shook her head. "No. This was not meant to begin the war but to prepare for it. Though I am not heartened by this act, we do not believe that Midgard is in danger at the moment."

Tony sighed deeply. "Come here, easy, easy," he said picking Wanda up carefully. He was infinitely gentle, making sure she could cradle her injured arm against him so it wouldn't jostle too much as he walked. She hesitantly put her arm around his neck but soon relaxed into his warm strength, too tired to keep her eyes open. "I'll never forgive you," he murmured so only she could hear.

She heard Zisa offer to carry her and felt Tony shake his head. "I've got her," he said.

...

He couldn't get any useful information from the Asgardian. She didn't know where Thor was; Heimdall could not see him or Bruce Banner. She didn't know anything about any threats to Midgard. She tried to be helpful but Tony got the impression that Asgard had problems of its own.

Rhodey, Vision. Pepper and Happy. They buzzed around Tony and Wanda with phrenetic energy. Tony was as understanding as he could be, but he hurt; his head hurt, and his anxiety clawed at him, scraped inside him with razor-sharp fingernails but he had to stay calm.

The doctors at Medical took excellent care of the both of them. Nothing physically was wrong with them that wouldn't heal. Wanda fell asleep almost instantly after they'd dressed her wounds and set her arm, hardly able to keep her eyes open despite the pain. When she woke up, it was ten hours later. She could hear Tony Stark arguing agitatedly with someone and she sat up, her head aching, she was thirsty.

She watched from her bed through the window that showed the hallway and other rooms, comfortable and warm and safe. As safe as she could be. Tony was apparently refusing to go to bed refusing just about everything, demanding to be allowed to work while in the hospital wing. She could see his fear, see it clawing at him. He yelled at Vision when he tried to take away Tony's laptop and make him take it easy as the doctor prescribed and it wasn't until he got into a shouting match with Rhodey about how he hadn't rested since he'd returned to earth that he finally climbed into bed, furious and far too amped up to sleep, telling everyone they had to leave. The lights dimmed and through his hospital room window she could see him get out of bed again and pace.

She stood and went to his room, tapping lightly on the doorway as the door was wide open. He looked startled and glanced around to her, holding his hand to his chest.

"Wanda, hey! How are you? How's your pain? How's your arm, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Tony," she said, raising a hand. "I'm good. I'm rested," she said pointedly.

He looked irritated. "Don't you start too," he snapped angrily.

She looked at him mildly and he puffed out his cheeks with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. It was her turn to see him in pajamas, at least, hospital clothes. He looked tired, worn, worried.

"Hard to sleep," he muttered. "Seeing those aliens again." He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. "I should be stronger than this."

"You are one of the strongest persons I know," Wanda said quietly, her eyes on his bruised and bloodied hands where he had tried futilely to break the shield to come to help her, and barring that he'd tried to break the stone around the edges, cutting his hands.

"Yeah, right," he said sarcastically. "So strong I'm like a two-year-old. A child afraid of nightmares."

Ah.

Carefully, hesitantly, she reached out and took his wrist. "You owe me," she said pointedly and his brow furrowed, blinking in confusion at the sudden apparent shift in subject but he didn't pull away.

"Um, yeah, okay. I knew that all ready. What, money? Getting you back to Sokovia? I already have plans for that. It will have to be a little off books, but--"

"No!" She said irritably. "Idiot. In repayment, I wish for you to let me help you."

He looked utterly baffled. "Come again? In repayment for you saving our asses, I'm supposed to let you do more? Like what?" He looked at her in skeptical annoyance.

She let go of his wrist and raised her fingers to his temple. He didn't move or flinch but looked uneasy. "Let me help you sleep. I will keep the nightmares away, Tony Stark. You owe me."

"I get it, you saved me--"

"You owe me for all that you've done for me," she clarified. "All the things I accepted. It wasn't easy for me, but I did it. Because you were generous and I had a need. Now you must return this favor."

"That's literally the opposite of how it works," he said but he looked curious, not afraid, and her heart throbbed, aching in her chest. He didn't look afraid.

"It works how I say it does," she said with a small smirk and lift of her shoulder. "But only if you want. Only then."

He gazed intently into her green eyes and she bore his scrutiny, patient, her fingers on his temple still, barely brushing. He smiled a bare instant and closed his eyes, with a barely perceptible nod.

She gave to him. Peace. Calm. Clarity of thought. And she quieted the thoughts in his mind that whirled as if they were in a terrible windstorm, plagued him, buffeted him, hurt him. She soothed. She eased. She took nothing away, only organized, only slowed. She watched his face intently. It relaxed very slowly, almost imperceptibly, but it was there. He looked... younger. She had never realized how much tension he held in his face, his expression, until she saw it ease. After a few more moments, she lowered her hand, dropping it and he caught it in his, holding her fingers.

"Thank you," he murmured, then opened his eyes.

"How do you feel?"

"Tired," he said with a smile. "I feel tired. Kinda sleepy." Not anxious.

"That's good," she returned his smile.

"How long--?"

"You shouldn't have any more nightmares. Tell Vision if they come back, but I... they shouldn't bother you anymore."

"I wish I could thank you."

"You did. By letting me. I know it doesn't make sense."

"No, it kind of does. So... I guess, you're welcome?"

She chuckled and stepped away, stopping at the doorway. "Get some rest Tony. We're all going to need it."

...

A week later, he walked her toward his quinjet, Vision at the helm. The two of them smiled at each other. "Good luck out there kid."

"I have a feeling we'll see each other soon," she replied. The past week had been interesting. She spent a lot of her time with Tony, theorizing, brainstorming as she recovered her strength. He showed her a few pieces of technology he'd been working on for her and the fact that he'd created them, before their reconciliation, broke her heart. She thanked him sincerely and he had waved her off.

"Oh, I almost forgot." He reached into his jacket pocket and placed in her hand a well worn, plain white envelope that had been split across the top. She pulled out a creased and soft paper, written on in childish scrawl in green crayon with a drawing of each of the Avengers, including Wanda and Pietro. She glanced up at him in question and read the green letters. _Thanks for trying._

"It was addressed to all the Avengers," he said, watching her face. "It was from a little boy in Sokovia. His big brother who was eight was one of the 117 that didn't make it out, along with his grandpa." She saw in the drawing a large building with three people outside it and two people inside the rough rectangle while crudely drawn robots with red eyes fought the Avengers.

"What is this for?" She asked helplessly, tears rolling down her face.

"Something you said in the cave. How you didn't know why you tried." He tapped the paper with one finger, and despite his sunglasses, she could see the tears in his eyes as well. "Well. This might help remind you."

Her chest filled with sweet and tender heartbreak and she threw her arms around Tony Stark. He stiffened at the unexpected contact but then embraced her and she even felt his hand slide down the back of her head, smoothing her hair.

"Be careful, Wanda. Be so careful," he murmured. She released the hug and stepped back, smiling at him.

"You know I can take care of myself, Stark."

"You sure can. Be sure you do, is all."

She waved goodbye to him and the other standing farther back as they waved goodbye to her. As she buckled her seatbelt in the seat beside Vision, she smiled. Though she had faced Supergiant and nearly died, though she had glimpsed a terrifying future war approaching, and though she had felt fear, she had faced it. She folded the picture and put it back in its envelope as carefully as if it were a sacred document. It was.

Somehow despite all the newly understood reasons she had to be afraid of what lies ahead, as the plane took off, Tony and the others soon a speck, she somehow felt better than she ever had before. She knew the fractured Avengers had a long way to go, but between her and Tony, she couldn't help but feel hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly thought when I started this it would be two chapters at most. But it was a lot of fun to write! I hope you all enjoyed, thanks for reading I would love to hear your thoughts and feelings about it! Thanks so much to everyone who commented, each and everyone helped me so much to finish this.


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